What If (The Series)
by Miss Mysteria
Summary: What if, that night in Godric's Hollow, Sirius Black had trusted his instincts, and apparated away with Harry to a safe place. What if, instead of chasing after Pettigrew, he had taken him to Black Manor, the safest place he knew in the world other than Hogwarts. What if, Harry grew up as a Black instead of a Potter, with all the love and purebloodedness that came with the title.
1. What If Family Came First

**What If Series: The Black Prince**

**by Miss Mysteria**

**Chapter One**

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A green glow encompassed the little village of Godric's Hollow, not unlike the ghostly emerald of the killing curse. But it couldn't be, wouldn't be. Peter was the secret keeper, they were safe. They were. _They_ _had to be. _It was someone else,_ anyone else._

He pushed his motorbike forward, leaning over the handlebars as though that would make the engine run faster. The wind whipped around his hair, slapping him across the face as he gritted his teeth. He looked down at the metre and buttons on the panel of the gas tank and slammed the fiery red toggle that he had asked Arthur Weasley to put on the bike, it wouldn't give him as fast a boost as he would like, but it would do the trick for tonight. The bike lurched forward in the air, a blazing trail of blue smoky flames spitting out behind him and Sirius threw his arms around the handlebars, not wanting to fall off and into the darkness below. He retained his tight grip and pushed the bike down, the speed almost doubling immediately as he lost altitude. This was no time for flight safety.

As he got closer to the ground, the lights in Godric's Hollow melted away into individual houses instead of the blend of brightness mixed with the eery green that had made his stomach roll since he had spotted it. The bike was now level with the street and he pulled up, descending but still moving quickly. He easily spotted the McAllie's cottage, seeing the old couple in front of their fire through their window as his bike stormed past, but then, all he saw was the smoke. Dark grey, soot-filled, the type that filled your lungs and cut off air within seconds of inhalation. No chance of survival. Sirius, keeping his right hand on the bars, used his left to pull his black t-shirt over his mouth and nose, eyes watering as he did so. Sweat began to pour off of him in waves. The smoke was hot, _burning hot. _Like fire. He squinted through the miasmic smog, desperately motivating his lungs to keep breathing as the smoke moved through his shirt and invaded his lungs.

His eyes darted left and right, looking for the tree stump that sat next to Potter Cottage, the way that the Marauders had known to find the secret house. It was hard to make out through the screen of dark grey, but finally he spotted a dark brown clump on his lower left, he quickly brought the motorbike in for a risky landing that had the wheels screeching in warning and the seat shuddering and tilting. Without waiting for a complete stop, Sirius swung his left leg over the seat and, covering his eyes with his arm, sprinted to the stump, repeating the destination in his mind.

'The Potter Family Can Be Found At Potter Cottage In Godric's Hollow'

It turned out to be unnecessary. A strangled scream was forced from somewhere below his navel and his hands reached out automatically and latched onto the front gate as his legs gave way from beneath him. _Burning. _The first floor of the house was scorching an angry fire, windows were smashed, glass and discarded bricks from the cracked and utterly destroyed walls covering the front garden. Tears burned his eyes as he leant his arms over the gate, his knees finding the ground with a thud. His hands were shaking frantically, unable to do anything other than live through his unknowable trauma.

His lips trembled dramatically as he stared with streaming eyes through the dark grey smoke, glaring into the fire. He brought his still-shaking hands up to his dry mouth and cupped them around it.

"JAMES!" He screamed, ignoring the heavy tremble and cracks in his voice,"LILY! HAR- _Oh God, Harry_!" As though he had suddenly remembered the existence of his Godson, the one-year-old baby in the burning house, Sirius climbed to his feet, hitting his legs fiercely to regain feeling once he was standing without aid from the gate. He brought his tear, soot and sweat stained t-shirt up over his nose and mouth once again and ran as quickly as his trembling legs would carry him, tripping over the tangle of broken brick, splintered wood and sharp glass and then barged through the front-door, which had been hanging onto its hinges and swaying dangerously. He immediately reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand, wielding it madly to tame the fire and after he had contained it to a smaller area, the back corner, he quickly cast a silent aguamenti to put it out for good.

His eyes darted around, his wand still up, a lumos lighting up the dark and smoky rooms. The living room was a mess; rubble and debris coating the floor. The ottoman sofa in the corner which he, Peter and James had sat on just two nights ago was burnt badly, with what looked like ricocheted spellfire singed into the navy fabric that was now covered in soot. He looked up, noticing a sheen of light that had been resting on the floor next to the sofa and gasped at the sight of the gaping hole in the ceiling, going through what he recognised as Harry's room and led to a hole in the roof; he could see the stars and although it made him grateful because that meant that the smoke haze was disappearing quickly, the fact that a hole that looked to him to be the result of a bombarda was going through Harry's room made the rolling of his stomach increase and he felt bile rise in his throat at the idea of Harry not making it as well as James and Lily.

As he turned for the stairs, his eyes flickered over a black tuff of hair in the corner of the room and his heart jumped rapidly into his throat. _James. _He didn't walk closer, it seemed as though his legs had stopped working. He didn't break down and collapse as he had when he had arrived, tears ran down his face however, and a wretched throaty sob fell out of his mouth. His best friend. _His brother. _The normally tan skin, flushed with laughter and happiness was pale and lifeless. His brown eyes, usually filled to the brim with love were dull. His neck was at an odd angle and it was clear from the way his body was positioned, he had been thrown back into the wall. Had that been his death? Colliding with the stone cottage wall, breaking his neck? Or had it been an Avada Kedavra. Sirius prayed for the second, it was over in seconds, or so he was told. Painless. Suffocating through a broken neck as he watched his attacker go after his wife and child was not a way out for James Charlus Potter, the brave Gryffindor.

Sirius squeezed his eyes shut and closed out the image of his brother on the floor, shutting out the pain as best he could and did the hardest thing he could have ever done; turned away and walked slowly to the staircase, rubbing his hand across his eyes and stopping the tears. What would Prongs say, he thought to himself, he would tell you to buck up you silly bastard. Harry was upstairs, and so was Lily. He would tell him to be the Gryffindor he knew him to be, the black sheep of the Black family, and get up off of his sad arse and go and get his family. Both of their family. His Godson and his honorary sister-in-law. They needed him now, not James. James didn't need him now. There would be time to mourn later.

His hands came to rest on the banisters and he walked up the stairs, using his arms to make his legs move. Fragments and rubble concealed the last few steps, so he took a leap of faith and jumped it, landing unbalanced and then falling onto his hands and knees with a loud thud. He took a deep breath, staring at the ground, ignoring the shock of pain through his knees and looked up straight into the pale, deceased face of Lily Potter. He shouted out in shock and reeled back, scuttling backwards away from her lifeless body that was half in and half out of Harry's room. As he was getting his breath back and he forced his rapidly beating heart under control, he wiped away the few tears that had escaped and looked on in grief.

Her body was at an odd angle, not unlike James'. Nothing was broken, at least, he didn't think so. She had died by the killing curse, he assumed. But the angle looked as though someone had moved her, tried to drag her from where she had died...at this thought Sirius stood, slowly as his legs still felt weak, his left hand on the wall beside him helping him up and his right hand raised with his wand, ready to fight anyone came out of the room. He sucked in a deep breath, and stepped over Lily's body, heart breaking as he did so. He would bury them, treat them with every care in the world, after he had found Harry, dead or alive. He needed to find his Godson. He lit up the end of his wand and lifted it to release light into the room. His knees buckled and he staggered over to the large white crib where his Godson was sat, sucking his little thumb and staring wide-eyed at the dead body of his mother.

"Harry!" Sirius smiled a watery smile, his eyes shining with relief filled tears. Harry looked up at his name, not that he knew it was his name, but he knew the voice and held up his arms with his toothless grin. Sirius sighed heavily as he picked him up and he latched on tightly to the child's snitch onesie, breathing in the scent of broomsticks and lavender. James and Lily's smell, combined onto their son. Their son who was very much alive. "My boy." He whispered.

Sirius paused. He looked around and at the foot of the crib there was a black robe and...a white, almost bony wand. A wand that didn't belong to James or Lily. A wand that he had only seen once, and only ever in the hands of a monster. He stumbled back, his back hitting the closet behind him with a bang that startled Harry and he began to sniffle, and then cry. Sirius, too concerned with the fact that Voldemort's robes and wand were in the room but the man himself was no where to be seen, ignored the tears and raised his wand, ready to defend himself and Harry against the self-proclaimed 'Dark Lord' if it came to it. But...a wizard was never without his wand. Not unless he had a choice. A wand was the wizards weapon, his only defence. And a wizard like Voldemort, no matter how evil and immersed in the Dark Arts, would _never, ever _leave his wand. Not voluntarily. His eyes flickered around the room, searching for any sign of life or someone hiding, not that Voldemort would hide. He found none and relaxed slightly, patting Harry on the back and rocking him to calm him down. After Harry's cries had stopped, or died down, Sirius knelt with Harry on his hip and with his thumb and index finger, picked up the wand. He held it as far as he could away from him like it had a contagious disease, because to him, it did. This was the wand that murdered his family. That had struck them down in hopes to get to their child. He knew that it was really Voldemort who had done it, but a wand chose the wizard. And Sirius did not want to touch any wand that had chosen Lord Voldemort.

He grimaced as he pocketed the wand in the back pocket of his jeans and then he looked around again. He turned around on the spot and opened the closet that he had fallen back against moments ago. People would be showing up soon, he knew. He also knew that James and Lily had told Albus that he was the secret keeper to protect Peter. No body would have suspected Peter, he thought as he reached into the closet and grabbed a duffle bag with the Falmouth Falcons logo imprinted on the front. James' team; Sirius' eyes sadly dropped from the bag and began to pack things as quickly as he could with Harry in his arms, who was quite happily sucking on his thumb and playing with Sirius' shoulder-length hair. A cuddly snitch toy, a few toddler books, some milk with a cooling charm on the bottles, Harry's beginners broom he had gotten him for his birthday, books on parenting, the rest of Harry's toys (Merlin and Morgana action figures, jigsaws that matched up to make Hogwarts castle and other famous magical places). He piled them all in the bag, spelled it weightless and shrunk it down before putting it in his front pocket.

He sighed and then untangled Harry's chubby fingers from his hair before turning around again and looking at the room with dawning sadness and foreboding. What now? James and Lily were dead, Remus was in South Africa on a mission for the Order to try and get wolf packs on their side and not Voldemort's and the Death Eaters, and Pete, well, there was only one place he would be now. Worm food. Dead. Most likely. But...now that Sirius thought about it, how had Voldemort found out? He couldn't have invaded Pete's mind, the fidelius charm worked around that by weaving the spell into the mind. Had Peter been tortured into it? Into revealing the whereabouts of his friends? But even as Sirius thought about it, he knew that even if he was tortured, he would never reveal anything, he would rather die than betray his friends, his family. But Peter had. Sirius thought back to the past few weeks when he had met up with him, he had gone around to his safe-house. There had been boxes piled on boxes, the apartment practically empty. He had asked about it and Peter had played it off like he was just being lazy unpacking everything. Sirius had believed him. He had come around Godric's Hollow for tea a few nights ago and had been weirdly quiet, declining to hold Harry when offered. He had never done that. He had said that he wasn't feeling well, and Sirius had believed him because he had been pale and shaky the past few weeks. Nervous. He had given James and Lily a hug, however, despite the 'illness' at the end of the night. They never did that.

Could he have..? No. Peter was a Marauder, one of the brothers. A member of their family since their first year at Hogwarts, since the time Sirius had punched the second year Slytherin who had ridiculed Remus' scars and James had backed him up all the way, and Peter with a short, fat arm around a sad and embarrassed Remus' shoulder. Since that day they had been a family. Peter would never betray them, not to Voldemort.

A voice in the back of his mind that sounded suspiciously like his father muttered, "But remember the times he would sit and watch. You were the only one who noticed. You thought him creepy, strange. Looking at everyone, making no contribution to your friendship. When he would get beat up by Slytherin's and you would rush to help and he would never do the same for you. Cowardly." the voice echoed and Sirius was more convinced with every word, furious anger bubbling in his chest and he hugged Harry closer to his side. "Weak. Always the last to volunteer. Always making others go first. Latching himself onto the people who could get him places, get him protected. If not Dumbledore, then who?"

Then Voldemort. Voldemort who had been gaining power, gaining strength, gaining allies left and right. Voldemort who had somehow known when and where their attacks would take place. Almost like there had been a spy. Almost like Peter had gone to the Order meetings, played coy with them, and then scuttled off to Voldemort and bowed to him and kissed his disgusting robes. Traded his life for theirs. For _Harry's._ Almost like Peter, _Wormtail_, had told Voldemort the secret, the hiding place of the Potter's the second he had been able to. A rage which surpassed his grief, his hatred for Voldemort built up in his chest. _How dare he! __Traitorous Rat! Betray them when they trusted him with THEIR LIVES! _Furious anger burned in his stomach and a growl not unlike the one from his animagus form was ripped from his throat. Before he could fly off of the handle completely, a soft cooing noise came from the baby on his hip and Sirius turned to face the child at his side, rage still simmering in his eyes.

He hadn't really looked at his Godson since he had got there. Sure, he had seen him in one piece, seemingly not completely traumatised which had given him relief, but when he looked at him, his heart almost gave out. There was the familiar mop of messy black hair, so like his father's, and his startlingly bright green eyes, like his mother's but seemingly even brighter. But when he really looked, he saw what his brain must have just passed over in his relief and grief mixed together. A large scar that ran from his hairline down over his forehead, branching out into separate lines almost like lightning, before crossing through his left eyebrow and stopping. The scar was a dark red, almost scab like but when Sirius ran his thumb over it gently, he couldn't feel a scar, just Harry's smooth skin, it was like it had been inputted inputted into his skin, like a tattoo. What was it from? It didn't seem to give Harry any pain, he was happily grinning a baby smile up at him as he ran his hand over the scar. Was it from falling debris from the roof? No, that would hurt, he would surely see some sign of pain, even if he had survived that. If a brick had fallen on Harry he wouldn't be alive now, Sirius was certain of that.

Before Sirius could think of anything else, or even be reminded of Peter's betrayal, a loud, booming wail from downstairs shocked him and he almost dropped his wand _and _Harry, who giggled in surprise of the movement. Someone was here, at Godric's Hollow, and by the sound of the loudness, it was Hagrid. Why would Hagrid be here? Then it came to him. Hagrid was here for Harry. Dumbledore suspected Sirius of being the secret keeper and therefore suspected Sirius of betraying James and Lily. Not Peter. The Headmaster no doubt had heard of the smoke coming from Potter cottage, or had one of his special devices tied to the charm of the house that had notified him of the wards' collapse and had sent his most loyal man to see if everything was alright and to take Harry if he was alive. He then heard heavy footsteps up the stairs, Hagrid's massive feet not caring about the rubble that covered the stairs, just stepping through it. Sirius mind was blank. What would he do? He could hand Harry to Hagrid, with the bag in hsi pocket and the wand to give to Dumbledore. He could go and look for Peter. Revenge. Revenge for James and Lily. For himself and Harry.

Harry...

Where would Harry go? Dumbledore would want to protect him, Sirius was sure of that. Voldemort had wanted to kill Harry and had obviously not succeeded. Voldemort had maybe tried to kill Harry? And failed? Was that what the scar was from? An escape from death? Sirius wasn't sure, but what he was sure of was how close Hagrid was to the door of the nursery, he had stopped at the top of stairs to sob over Lily's body an Sirius felt the familiar prickle at the corner of his eyes as he listened to the man's grief. He knew what it felt like and was fighting breaking down himself with every breath, but he couldn't afford to, not with Harry next to him. He had to be strong for Harry.

For Harry. That was when Sirius made up his mind and just as Hagrid passed the threshold of the nursery, Sirius apparated away with the Saviour of the Wizarding World on his hip, thinking of one destination that he wasn't sure where it would take him as he didn't have one of those anymore. Not after tonight.

_Home._

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**A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Don't forget, if you liked it and want to see more, please leave reviews and favourites! Also, go and check out my other fanfic BEFOREWARDS both on Ao3 and on .**

**Thanks love you guys loads,**

**MM xx**


	2. What If You Had Always Had A Home

**What If Series: The Black Prince**

**by Miss Mysteria**

**Chapter Two**

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Sirius felt his feet connect with the ground and clutched Harry closer to him as he began to sniffle, if apparating was an unpleasant experience for adults, he couldn't imagine what it would be like for Harry. He sucked in a shaky breath and raised his wand, flourishing it so that a bright light appeared at the end, lighting up the dark path in front of him.

He knew where he was, he'd already known when he had apparated where he would end up. There were only two places on earth that he had really ever called home; Potter Mansion in Dorset and Black Manor in Cumbria. When he had been younger he had spent a lot of time in Black Manor, with his father holding a tight, squeezing grasp on his shoulder and his mother hissing in his ear, reminding him of who he was and what the repercussions of misbehaving in front of Lord Black would be. The memories were not fond, but they were fonder than those of Grimauld Place and Hogwarts, where he had only found out moments ago he had spent years in the same room as the man that had lead his friends to their deaths in aid of a terrorist.

He slowly let out another breath; whether it was a sigh of relief he was away from prying eyes and the dead bodies and memories or a sigh of let's-get-this-over-with he himself wasn't sure. Nevertheless, he moved his legs forward, and padded towards the dark mass in the distance he knew to be the Manor.

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He stopped after twenty minutes of walking up the path at where he knew the wards of the property started. He took a deep breath, inwardly unable to believe he was coming to his family for help, the family that he had always renounced. The urge to backtrack and try and access the wards in Potter Mansion was strong, but he knew he wouldn't be able to cross, only Harry, the Heir would be. The Potter family magic would know that its Lord had died and would only allow family of blood to enter the house until Harry took up the mantle of Lord Potter on his fifteenth birthday.

Harry gave a small snore and Sirius looked down at the lightly snoozing child with a smile on his face. He was doing this for Harry, _to protect Harry._ Looking back wistfully at the darkness behind him, he summoned up his steely courage and resolve that had made him the Gryffindor he was. What would James do? Sirius huffed a quiet laugh that seemed to echo in the dark silence and as soon as his breath left his mouth it turned to cloudy air. He knew exactly what James would do, turn around and stubbornly refuse help. So, in light of that, he thought to himself, what would Lily do? The fiery woman would march up to the Manor, slam on the door and demand Lord Black aid her and her child. That woman was scary when she was angry. His smile slipped; when she _had been _angry. They were gone, and he needed to remember that.

He turned back to face the ward that glistened in the moonlight in certain areas where it caught the light. His grandfather would know he was here once he crossed the wards, he would be alerted the second someone walked through them and there would be no turning back. He sucked in a shaky breath, clicked his neck by stretching it to the side and pressed a kiss to a sleeping Harry's forehead.

He stepped forward and felt the Black blood wards wash over him like a warm hug. The magic recognised the blood rushing through his veins; even if he had been blasted off of the tapestry, he was still forever and always a Black and the magic would always be there to welcome him home. Even if the people who used the magic didn't.

He continued up the path, hand holding his wand sweating with nerves as he got closer and closer to the large onyx stone doors that would take him into the Manor. He tried to ignore the worms that had appeared inside his stomach, the anxiousness had lowered slightly now that the wards had recognised him and he was one step closer to getting himself and Harry to safety, but it didn't stop, it most likely wouldn't until they were inside.

He stopped dead in front of the door. It was black onyx stone with two silver raven door knockers. There was no handle and Sirius knew from childhood experiences that if anyone didn't knock and just tried to enter they would not fare well. He had been blown back by an invisible force too many times to count.

He squeezed his eyes closed and raised his hand that was holding his wand. His pushed his magic through the wand and touched the tip of it to the centre of the door, signalling that he was a Black (as only Black's knew that passage of entrance) and wanted to be permitted entrance. A loud bong sounded from inside the Manor as soon as his wand touched the door.

He hugged Harry closer and ran his hand through the boy's curls as he heard footsteps and whispering on the other side of door. He raised his wand somewhat higher, not enough to be threatening but enough so that he could fire a shield if a spell was thrown at him and Harry. It would be ironic if Harry was killed by a Black instead of Voldemort, but not unthought of.

The lock on the other side of the door clicked and Sirius jumped in surprise as it was pulled open and a strong hand took hold of the fabric of his shirt and dragged him inside. The rapid motion of the movement woke Harry and he cried out, tears already running down his face. His Godson was plucked from his arms as soon as the door had been slammed shut and locked behind him and his cries quietened instantly. Sirius broke free of the grasp on him and immediately settled into a dulling stance; his back left leg forward, right leg supporting him behind and his wand arm raised, ready to fight his way out. He shouldn't have come, he was thinking to himself, now Harry was somewhere else and he was stuck duelling...who was he duelling?

Sirius blinked and properly looked at the two people, in front of him, his eyes going crossed at the sight of a very familiar black oak wand trained on the space between his eyes.

Lord Arcturus Black the third was stood in front of him in all of his glory; he cut an imposing figure at six-foot-four, framed with broad shoulders, and very strong arms that could apparently drag a twenty three year old man through a door whilst said man struggled, all set off by a pair of misty grey eyes and deep black hair. He was the Black Lord and had always acted the part and right now he was playing it well, a furious scowl on his face, but Sirius could see the softness in his eyes.

"Grandfather." Sirius' eyes flickered quickly over to the other occupant of the room, his grandmother Melina Black who was rocking Harry back and forth, but keeping an eye on the situation and palming her wand. Sirius gulped, "Grandmother." If anyone in their family was the best with curses, it would be his grandmother. There was a reason his grandfather and her got along so well after sixty years of marriage.

"Sirius." Arcturus' raspy voice gave away his age in a way that his appearance, other than the sparse few grey hairs, didn't. His eyes narrowed, and the softness was gone, "What was the last thing you said to me?" Of course, security questions.

Sirius paled and looked to the floor in shame. He remembered the last conversation he had had with his grandfather and father vividly, it had been the end of his fifth year at one of the monthly family dinner's with his cousins, aunts and uncles and grandparents all present. His father, the late Orion Black, had brought up the subject of a new Dark Lord rising, one more powerful and intelligent than Grindelwald. Bellatrix and his mother, Walburga Black, had perked up and listened to the tales with adoration shining through their eyes. Without even meeting the monster they had become awed and practically servants to him immediately. Sirius had made comments under his breath, muttering to Regulus that it was not true, that the man would be stopped by Dumbledore before he got too far, that there was no point, hoping to keep his brother out of the conflict. Unfortunately...or fortunately, Sirius had never decided which it had been, his grandfather had heard him. After the dinner had ended, Arcturus had summoned Sirius and Orion to his study and then made them sit in the uncomfortable chairs in front of his desk in silence as he signed some pieces of parchment. Then, Arcturus had looked up at him, ignoring Orion completely and had asked him bluntly what his allegiances were. Sirius had straighten in his seat and announced that he would never bow to the '_Dark Lord'_; that he would never become a servant of another man and that he would stand with his brothers in battle. Orion had blown his lid, throwing himself out of his seat and grabbing Sirius by his robes, shaking him furiously whilst screaming that he had betrayed them all, that he wasn't a real Black, that he was no better than a "common mudblood". Sirius had fought against him and finally released his wand from his pocket, but before he could use it, his accidental magic had burst out and thrown his father back into the bookcase of the office. Once the last book fell and silence once again refined over the room, Sirius had stared, wide-eyed and panting at his grandfather, expecting revenge for attacking Orion, so he raised his wand at his grandfather. The man stood, slowly and carefully placing his drawn wand on the table in front of him, showing Sirius that he was not going to retaliate. Sirius, however, just sneered.

"You disgust me." He had ripped off the Black family sigil that had been woven onto his robe and threw it at his feet. "All of you," He made eye contact with his Head of House. "All of you are a bunch of slimy fucking Slytherin's who manipulate, maim and destroy anything you come into contact with. I am no longer a Black, as you said Father. I will be nameless, as anything is-"

Present day Sirius finished the sentence replaying in his mind, "-better than being a Black and a descendant of yours."

Arcturus nodded once to Sirius, and then once to his wife, before lowering his wand. He looked at Sirius, who was still sheepish, "I was not expecting to see you again, Sirius."

Sirius let out a shaky breath and ran his wand-free hand through his hair, "I wasn't expecting to come here either. But I had no where else to go."

Melania's brow furrowed as she to pocketed her wand. She stared between Sirius and the baby in her arms, who looked remarkably like a boy she had seen in photos with Sirius in the papers, when he had received his Hit-Wizard badge. A Potter, hadn't it been? And here Sirius was, with a baby that looked just like the young man in that photograph, looking dirty, tired and broken. The child had a long, jagged scar running over his forehead that to her, reeked of Dark Magic. Oh no. She sighed and walked over to him, heels clicking on the floor. She switched the child onto her hip and his small head came to lie on her chest as she rested her aged hand on one of Sirius' and squeezed. "I am so very sorry for your loss, Sirius."

Sirius' eyes widened. He didn't know how she had realised it so fast, had she known that Voldemort had been after them? He didn't know what to say, so only nodded jerkily in thanks and swallowed strongly. He looked down at the marble floor, tears prickling at the corner of his eyes, he had just arrived, he was not about to cry on her shoulder. A strong hand came down on his shoulder and made Sirius look up. The sympathy in his grandfather's eyes made him lose all resolve and as he opened his mouth to apologise for being weak, something the man no doubbt expected, a sob forced its way out of his throat and the hand on his shoulder dragged him closer and in for a hug.

And there the last of the sane Black's stood. A broken man with only his Godson left being surrounded by two of the coldest people he had ever known.

Well, Sirius looked back on later, perhaps this had _always been home._

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**A/N: Thanks for reading, Don't forget to review!**


	3. What If A New Era Was Born

**What If Series: The Black Prince**

**by Miss Mysteria**

**Chapter Three**

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It was two hours past when Sirius and Harry had arrived at Black Manor in the dead of night, two men; one orphaned and one broken. After Sirius had collected himself, he had taken Harry back off of his grandmother and she had lead him to a room in the west wing of the house, with Arcturus requesting his presence in his study once Harry was asleep. On the way, Melania had called the Black elves and asked them to set up a nursery for Harry to stay in and by the time they had arrived, the room had been set.

Dark green drapery's hung from the large bay windows, accented by the silver trimming that ran along the sides of the silk fabric. A silver canopy crib sat in the centre of the room with see-through white Gossamer curtains hanging from the poles, shielding the crib from eyes, but still transparent enough so that if someone looked directly, they could see in. The floor was a dark panelled oak, reflected by the silver ceiling which had small, black ravens flying up and down, moving their wings slowly. In the corner was a small desk and chair with ink pots, raven feather quills and parchment pressed in with the Black crest ready to go. In the opposite corner was a set of dark chestnut chest-of-drawers and accompanying wardrobe, which, when Sirius went over to inspect it, was already filled to the brim with onesies, nappies and other assortment of clothes and accessories that Harry might need. He turned to face his grandmother with a raised eyebrow. She merely tilted her nose up at him and walked forward, placing a snoring Harry into his crib. She smiled softly as he immediately settled and curled around a white owl stuffed toy that had been placed in there. She had always been maternal; she had healed countless scraped knees and snuck him snacks quickly before his dinner. Of course, in his teenage years he had stopped coming to the Manor, his parents wanting to keep his 'mudblood ways' away from the head of the family.

Melania stepped back from the crib, letting the curtain fall around it and the silencing charm that was woven into the fabric took place and they could speak. Sirius scratched the back of his neck as the silence stretched on and his grandmother just stared at him.

She broke the quiet, "You are too skinny, Sirius."

His eyes hit the floor as heat rose to his cheeks. She tutted and he heard her heels click on the floor as she walked closer. Her hand lifted to his chin and lifted his head so that he looked into her deep blue eyes. "It is nothing to be ashamed of." Her voice turned to a whisper. "Never be ashamed of your childhood," Sirius' eyes widened dramatically, and hers softened, "however unfortunate and despicable it was, it made you the strong man you are today. And while you starve yourself for whatever reason you only give his memory strength and add justification to her eyes." She let her hand drop as he stood stiff, staring at her still. She gave a tight-lipped smile and turned, throwing over her shoulder, "Punish them, not yourself. You are a Black; I was under the impression revenge was in your blood." Melania walked out, through the double doors to the nursery, "Arcturus is waiting for you in his study, do try not to dally," and left Sirius standing in shock in the silent nursery.

He sighed, shook his head exasperatedly and set off, throwing one last glance over his shoulder at the concealed crib. He stopped once along the way to the office, just outside of the nursery doors to put a locking charm on the doors. It wouldn't stop a house elf, or his grandparents, but it would make anyone else pause and wander on. He would do well to not forget that this was still main quarters for the Black family and only hours ago something big had occurred between Harry, James, Lily and Voldemort. Melania's words echoed in his mind as he walked the dark halls, passing portraits of Black's past along the walls with beady eyes that followed him. He wasn't starving himself, no. Rationing...maybe. It was war, and his last name still read Black. Most food shop owners in Diagon Alley knew he was in the Order, siding with Dumbledore, but some didn't sell to him, to _Death Eaters._ They denied him and with his hatred of his last name having been built up over the years, he had stopped accessing his trust vault that his Uncle Alphard had set apart for him. Anything Black was separated from him, he didn't need _their_ money or anything that was bought with it. His only food source after a while had been James' cooking (Lily had been hopeless, sticking with breakfast foods which was just cereal as she burnt the toast) and the snacks that were put out for Order meetings. So, yes, he had lost weight. A lot of weight. Since Melania had seen him last, at least. He had been a growing boy with Hogwarts food for breakfast, lunch and dinner. He had been big and strong. Sure he was still strong, just not as big. It would come back, he was sure of that. He would put his mind to it. If anyone, _anyone, _came after Harry, he would be big enough and brave enough to stop them and put them in the ground without breaking a sweat.

When he arrived at his grandfather's office, the man was sat in his big black leather chair and surrounded by the dark oak credenza desk that was topped with paperwork and half-written parchments. Arcturus looked up at his light knock and gestured to the one of the uncomfortable, high-backed wooden chairs in front of his desk. The man steepled his fingers and watched as Sirius sat down in the chair, waving his wand and placing a cushioning charm on it. He sunk into it, breathing a sigh of relief before frowning, squirming and then gasping like he had been shocked. He reached around for his back pocket and his fingers wrapped around the bony white wand he had forgotten was there. He brought it around and looked into his grandfathers face, which had turned a ghostly pale and began to make space on the desk for the wand. As soon as there was room, Sirius quickly put it down and Arcturus waved his hand so the door to the office closed and locked.

The older man gestured to the wand, "Is that _his _wand?"

Sirius nodded.

"How did you get it?"

Sirius swallowed, "It was on the ground in front of Harry's crib along with a black robe at Potter Cottage. Harry didn't have that scar before, I only noticed it after I'd stopped panicking."

Arcturus inclined his head and sank back into his chair. He released a long sigh and closed his eyes. Sirius stayed quiet, reading the situation; his grandfather had always been a good thinker. Making plans in seconds, manipulating Ministers in minutes, creating dark spells in hours. He trusted his grandfather enough to let him handle the situation, the man would have a better idea of what had happened.

Minutes pasted and soon half and hour had gone by. At this point, Arcturus had already reached for a quill and parchment and began to write, it was now full on one side and half on the other. Finally, the tense silence snapped when the man cleared his throat. "I have suspicions of what has occurred. They are not fact."

"What are they?" Sirius asked, leaning forward in his seat.

Arcturus leaned back in his chair again, but this time he seemed more tired. "Obviously the Potter's had been notified that Dark Forces were after them, Dumbledore perhaps, as they had gone into hiding in 1980. I was told of this as it was the reason given at the first Wizengamot session that Lord Potter did not attend, which was odd, because he was one of the first wizards there and the loudest in his opinions. It was not thought of as odd at the time; many light family's with no Heir's were going that way, wanting to preserve their line. But then came the news of the first Potter child, an Heir, born. Legally, according to old laws, the Lord and Lady of the House have to announce their Heir's birth and the child's health status as well as gender. And, after the news broke, the Dark Lord's attacks became more focussed on the rebel group that I am sure you are aware of called the Order of the Phoenix. Not on the Ministry, where he and his Death Eaters had been pursuing, but on individual's in the Order. James and Lily Potter and their newborn child were announced by the Dark Lord to be of uttermost importance; the child was ordered a risk to their reign and was to be killed by no other than the Dark Lord himself. Do not look at me like that, Sirius. I know this through hours of combing through every portrait in this house and demanding to know the information and waiting for them to return from their other paintings in relatives homes such as the Malfoy's and the Lestrange's. It is clear now that he somehow was able to enter the house-"

Sirius' eyes darkened, "Peter Pettigrew was their secret keeper."

Surprise flickered across Arcturus' face, "The Fidelius charm?"

He nodded, "Yes. But Peter is-was a spy for Voldemort. He gave them up."

Arcturus held eye contact with him for a moment, before nodding and noting it down on his parchment. Sirius had a feeling it was a to-do list, but he felt warmth in his chest take over the chill from when Pettigrew was mentioned at the fact that his grandfather believed him immediately. He was one of the few left who did.

"As I was saying," he continued, "he got into Potter Cottage, killed James and Lily Potter." He ignored Sirius' wince, not impolitely. He had to go over the facts he had deduced, "He, evidently had stood in front of the child's bed, we know that for certain. What we do not know is what occurred then."

Sirius cleared his throat "I thought that maybe he had fired a spell at Harry? That's how he got his scar."

Arcturus tilted his head to the side, was silent for a few minutes, before sitting up straight in his seat, eyes wide. His eyes darted down to his paper, and quickly read all of the information there. Sirius watched on with a mounting sense of foreboding. Arcturus looked back at his grandson. "Sirius, as I am sure you felt, that scar is full of Dark Magic." Sirius winced heavily. He had felt it, felt it and ignored it, like he had with anything Dark. But he nodded for his grandfather to continue. "Only one spell is that Dark, only one. And you know which I am speaking of."

"But-but there's no way he would have survived it! It's called _the killing curse _for a reason!" Sirius protested loudly. Arcturus grabbed Sirius' sleeve as the younger man gestured madly around and pulled him closer.

"You mean to tell me that Lady Potter was not a charms Mistress, not the brightest witch many-a-wizard had ever met? You mean to tell me that she could have not in all that is good and holy, found or perhaps even created a spell, or ritual, or shield to protect her child? Not even if she had known about the Dark Lord's intent on murdering her only son for a year or more?"

Sirius went silent. He hadn't thought of that. Lily _had _been a charms Mistress, having received her Mastery fairly quickly after leaving Hogwarts in their seventh year. She _would _have been very much capable of creating a spell with that much time on her hands, especially in the first few months of their hiding, when James had been able to come to work still. James could have even helped after those months, when he had had to go back with Lily and Harry as he was in too much danger. Working on it together, researching it together, Sirius had no doubt that the previous Head Boy and Head Girl, smartest in the school, could have come up with something to protect their son. Even from Voldemort, one of the most powerful wizards alive.

"She could have." Sirius concluded. "With James' help, she could have."

Arcturus nodded in satisfaction, "That she could have. And? What if she succeeded? Placing a spell on her son, that protected him from any spell with an intent of harm saved his life tonight, and many others, I am sure. Now, we do not know for sure, this is just speculation. We also do not know where the Dark Lord it, but, seeing as the fact that his wand is now on my desk having been brought to me by a member of the Order of the Phoenix, I am assuming that he has perished. Perhaps the killing curse rebounded off of the child and onto himself? However," Arcturus started again as light began to fill Sirius' eyes, "the Dark Lord was an accomplished wizard. I have _absolutely no doubt _that he dabbled in the most evil of magic, immersed himself in the wickedness of Hell itself."

The light of hope left as soon as it had entered and terrified darkness swirled around Sirius' eyes as he whispered, "You think he is immortal? Voldemort?"

Arcturus slowly nodded, "It is possible. There are many ways that I would not began to think as too far for him to go. Not him. But, for the moment, I believe him gone. And I believe that Lily Potter and your Godson the cause of his death." His eyes narrowed at Sirius' changing emotions as he had a small smile on his face, "I do not think that you understand the repercussions of this, Sirius. If I have come to this conclusion, so has, I have no doubt, Albus Dumbledore. Albus Dumbledore is the man you ran away from with Harry Potter in your arms. Albus Dumbledore no doubt believes you to be the man who reported the Potter's location to Voldemort, which means your safety is at risk as well as Harry's. Sirius."

Sirius lifted his eyes from where they had lowered in shame; he was the one looking after Harry now, he needed to have thought of all of this first. He met identical eyes with his grandfather as the man lowered his hand to open the draw beside him. He reached into it, still keeping eye contact with his grandson, and pulled out a small black velvet ring box with the House Black crest carved into it with silver. Sirius sucked in a surprised breath as he realised what this was. Arcturus opened the box, took out the object inside of it and held it out on his open palm for Sirius ot take. It was a ring. Or, more specifically, the Heir Ring to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. It would have been taken off of his father's deceased body when he had died of Dragon Pox two years prior and placed there, waiting for Arcturus to make a decision about who would be the next Heir and the next in line to his throne.

Sirius took it with shaking hands, but didn't put it on. He knew his grandfather would have something to say. Perhaps the questions of _why _was burning in his eyes because Arcturus laced his fingers together and stared at Sirius over them. "You are headstrong, it is true. Too stubborn, too determined. Your morals differ from my own, but not in the ways it matters. The fact that you came to me and Melania for help this evening, when your world had ended, the fact that you are not curled in a ball in a corner, lost in your own grief, and the fact that you did not chase after the man responsible for their deaths makes you my rightful Heir. You have matured, changed from your teenage years, not much it is true. But the difference I have seen tonight makes me know that I have made the right choice. I am proud of you, my boy. My Heir."

Sirius had slight tears in his eyes. It had been a long time since he had heard anyway say they were proud of him. The last time had been James when he had apologised to Snape after the incident with Moony in fifth year. And now it was his grandfather. And Sirius knew he had to put the ring on.

As he looked at it, he decided it might have been the most beautifully dangerous ring he had ever seen. A black onyx stone set into a silver band made up of several winding snakes, a moment to their history as Slytherin's, no doubt. One of the silver snake's head was rested on part of the black onyx stone, its mouth wide open showing off its fangs. Painted carefully onto the onyx was the sigil of House Black; three black ravens and a hand holding a wand above them. The three ravens represented the Heir, the Lord's Lady and his Advisor. The hand holding the wand belonged to the Head of the House. Arcturus' last Advisor had died not long ago, he knew as it had been in the papers. Big news, apparently. Sirius hadn't cared. He did now though as it meant that _he _as the Heir would become his grandfather's Advisor as was proper. He sucked in a deep breath and slid the ring onto his right ring finger.

The Black Family magic surged out of the snake's open mouth and surrounded him; a bright cascading stream of silver that blanketed his core, not unlike the feeling the wards had given him when he had passed through them. Perhaps they had sensed the future Heir? It transformed into sparks like when you first got matched with your wand at Ollivander's and they all fell down together to the ground.

He looked up and met his grandfather's gaze. The man looked unusually serious for someone who had just confirmed his Heir. "Now that you are protected, I think it is time we discuss the protection of your Godson."

Sirius frowned, his left hand palming the ring that was now stuck, moulded to his finger. He would not be able to take it off until he either died, lost his magic, or was renounced as the Heir by the Lord. "What do you mean?"

"Well, even if the Wizarding World believes your tale of Pettigrew being the secret keeper like I, do you think it will prevent them from taking him from you and placing him with a 'Light' family?"

Oh. He hadn't thought of that. _Of course_ they wouldn't allow Harry to be with him, he was a Black! They had always discriminated against his name and now they were going to take his only light in his life away from him because they were prejudice pricks!

He levelled his gaze with Arcturus', "What do we do? How do we stop them from taking him?"

Arcturus smirked and pushed a piece of parchment in front of his Heir. All Sirius had to do was read the first line and immediately agreed.

**_Recipe for Blood Adoption Potion_**

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**A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Let me know what you think in reviews and if you liked it, leave favourites and follows!**

**Thanks, love you guys, **

**MM xx**


	4. What If Light Became Dark

**What If Series: The Black Prince**

**by Miss Mysteria**

**Chapter Four**

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The potion was not simple. Several of the ingredients, if they were not Black's and had an almost endless galleon supply, would be impossible to get. A cauldron with just the boiling water needed to simmer on a flame for thirty minutes before adding a crushed bezoar to counteract the poison in the next added ingredient of bloodroot. After twenty minutes of boiling on the flame, the potion maker must add dry and shredded boomslang skin at the same time as lacewing flies that have been stewed in Knotgrass Mead for three months straight. Then, the potion should be a dark green and if not, the potion maker must start again or it may have dangerous effects on whoever is drinking it. Leave it to simmer for two hours, but keep a constant watch to make sure it doesn't boil or burn. Then, add essence of the new "parents", three drops of blood should do it, not more or less. Stir anti-clockwise for seven cycles, clockwise for two and watch as the potion turns a deep blue. Take off of the flames and place on freezing surface so that the potion cools from the bottom up. Once the potion is cool, which takes around three full hours, measure out one hundred millilitres and have the person drink. It was uncertain how long it would take for the potion to come into effect, but it was within a twenty-four hour period.

Overall, the potion making would take them five and a half hours, which wasn't bad for a potion that would be changing Harry's genetic's. Sirius had wanted to make sure that Lily would remain Harry's biological mother, even if James couldn't physically. Harry needed to be a Black, and his grandparents had been slightly shocked at Sirius' outright yes answer, Arcturus having informed Melania as soon as the decision had been made. But Sirius knew it was the best cause of action. He would still always be Harry Potter to Sirius, but in reality and to the rest of Wizarding world he would be a Black. New names were a hard part. He had wanted to keep Harry, but obviously having a son called Harry or something similar who was the same age as Harry Potter would not be good. Especially with the stories that had already come out.

It had been four hours since he had arrived at Black Manor, and whilst he, Melania and Arcturus were sat around the dining table discussing plans and how to get the ingredients without being caught out (the potion wasn't exactly _legal_), emergency breaking news owls from the Daily Prophet had flown in, before dropping four papers down onto teh table and flying straight off again through a ceiling window. The headline had made Sirius' heart stop.

**'Harry Potter - The Boy Who Lived!'**

_Harry James Potter, son of Lord James and Lady Lily Potter, it has been announced by Albus Dumbledore on this night of the 31st of October, 1981, defeated You-Know-Who. The Potter Cottage in Godric's Hollow had been found in ruins by the Headmaster of Hogwarts and his gamekeeper, Rubeus Hagrid, and on inspection, they found the deceased bodies of James and Lily Potter. Lord Potter is expected to have tried to fend off You-Know-Who and died in process, and whilst his wife and Lady of House Potter, Lily Potter, nee Evans, tried to protect her son, she too perished at the end of the monster's wand-_

Sirius stopped reading and pulled the second paper closer to him.

**'The Boy Who Lived - KIDNAPPED'**

_As finding out only ours ago that our world had been saved by a one-year-old Heir to an Ancient House, the Daily Prophet is unfortunately reporting that Harry Potter was kidnapped from his crib only moments after the death of You-Know-Who. The man or woman who has not yet been identified was seen only momentarily by Gamekeeper of Hogwarts, Rubeus Hagrid. The person was described as being around six-foot three, dark hair and was wearing dark clothes. Unfortunately Mr. Hagrid was not able to get a clearer view of this vicious and clearly deranged monster._

Arcturus snorted and Sirius' eyes flew to him. The older man had thrown the paper that Sirius had been reading into the middle of the table, clearly dismissing the words. "They paint you well, do they not, Sirius?"

Sirius rolled his eyes, and scanned the front page, "Oh yes, 'deranged' and 'vicious'. Thats me down to a tee."

"Yes, they certainly paint a picture don't they." His grandmother said, before asking for a house-elf and requesting sheets of parchment and an ink pot and quill. When it appeared, she immediately began to pen letters to the Potion stores in both Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade and Appleby village. The different request to the different stores would mean that if anyone looked into her orders, they would not get suspicious (as though anyone would dare to cross her and demand her order records, she was Lady Black and known widely for her prowess with a wand). The ingredients would arrive in a matter of days, no one would keep the Black family waiting more than that allotted time. In the mean time, Arcturus knew, he would need to run damage control.

And run he did.

In the days following October the 31st, whilst Melania looked after Harry as Sirius grieved properly and fully, finally allowing himself to cry in the corner of a room, Arcturus was in the news constantly. Donations to St. Mungo's, the newly established James and Lily Potter foundation helping those who suffered loss in the war, Ministry Departments. Speeches about how in this time of grief and relief, the wizarding community of Europe would need to pull together, would need each other's shoulder's to lean on. Wizengamot meetings and trials on captured Death Eaters, of course some of them were even his own family, but he made sure to keep his face stern and disapproving, even when cousins and nephews spotted him in the Black seat and begged him to help them. The Black's would need to become a neutral family, that he knew. They had been Dark in the past, and now, with most of their family firmly planted in Azkaban jail cells for the rest of their lives, they needed the support of the public. Of course, there had been a bump in the road and Sirius had needed to be escorted to a trial. Well, not a trial per-se.

Albus Dumbledore had vouched that Sirius Black had been the secret keeper to the Potter's and that he was to blame for their deaths and most likely had taken Harry. This sparked Rufus Scrimgeour and Madam Minister Bagnold to call for his immediate arrest, which Arcturus obviously and quickly deterred into a small meeting in the Minister's office, where Sirius was taken under the influence of veritaserum and, with some subtle confunding done on Arcturus' part, within half an hour Sirius was declared innocent and was being congratulated and sucked up to by the Minister and her undersecretary, Cornelius Fudge, for becoming the rightful Heir to House Black. Scrimgeour had not been happy, suggesting quietly to the Minister that there had been foul play involved in the questioning and 'how could they be sure that Black didn't take Harry Potter' as they hadn't asked any questions about the child (Arcturus had been manipulating the conversation away from there). Peter Pettigrew, having been announced by Sirius that he was the real man they were looking for, died mysteriously in a gas pipe explosion almost as soon as the news broke that he was guilty, taking thirteen muggles and his entire body with him, except his finger.

By the time November the 13th arrived, the potion was sat, cooled on Arcturus' desk in his study with the man himself sat in his normal office chair, Melania stood by the potion, pouring the allotted amount into a cup and Sirius was sat on one of the chairs, with a bouncing and happy Harry on his lap. They had gone over the precautions and the plans a number of times and they had finally decided on a name. Once he hit fifteen, Lorcan Hadrian Black, named after Sirius' great, great, great grandfather, would take his place as Lord Potter on the Wizengamot, being the only person related nearest enough to Harry Potter's grandmother, Dorea Potter, nee Black. Once Arcturus had...passed on, Sirius would take his place as Lord Black, and Lorcan would become his Heir as well as Lord Potter. He would, well...he would always be Harry Potter to Sirius. He would always be his Godson, and James would always be his dad. But, he knew that if it were the other way around, that if he had died protecting his son and his wife, he would want James to take his son in just as Sirius was doing. _He knew that. _It didn't make it any easier. He wanted Harry to still have James' floppy black mop of hair, his lithe structure, his chin. He was praying that he would still have his mother's eyes. They were distinguishable from others, Sirius knew that also, but that would come at another time.

He tightened his hold on Harry as Melania handed the child the cup, keeping her hand underneath and tipping it up to his mouth. And Harry, well, he downed it in one gulp, making Arcturus snort and Melania roll her eyes gently. He would have no idea what was going on. Sirius would make sure that Harry would know that he was not his father, that James was. He would tell him the story of how he met James, Remus and _Peter. _How his father met Lily on the train, pulled her pigtails and how she had smacked him straight across the cheek. The eleven year old had proclaimed he was in love.

Later, when he put Harry down to sleep in his crib and ran his fingers through the outrageous curls one last time, he smiled fondly as a rush of wind from the window pushed his hair back from his forehead and a familiar scent washed over him; broom handles. James was giving his blessing. And that was all Sirius needed.

In the morning, when he had gone to wake Harry up, he had been startled by the boy's completely different appearance. He was practically Sirius' double; slick, jet-black hair that was silky soft, pale porcelain skin, the same thin nose, cheekbones, long neck. But when the child opened his eyes, Sirius could see the vibrant green of Lily and breathed in the scent that had stayed the same; Lavender and Broom handles. Mixed with a little something of leather.

And Lorcan Hadrian Black, son of Sirius Black and Lily Potter, Godson of James Potter, was born.

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**A/N: Now, quickly I want to explain why I put certain ingredients into the Blood Adoption Potion as a lot of research went into it and I want to share with you guys the reasons why.**

**Bezoar: **to counteract the poison in bloodroot.

**Boomslang Skin: **J.K. Rowling added it to Harry Potter to represent a shedded outer body and a new inner and it is also used in the Polyjuice Potion and the Beautification Potion, changing people's appearances.

**Lacewing Flies: **Was chosen by J. K. Rowling to add to Harry Potter as it represents "an intertwining or binding together of two identities", as suggested by the word "lace" in the name. They had been stewed in Knotgrass Mead for three months as Knotgrass is defined by J.K. Rowling as being tied to another person and the time frame was because that is how long it takes for a woman to get into her first trimester of pregnancy, and if you think about it, you are essentially creating a new person with this potion.

**Bloodroot: **bloodroot is poisonous and its extracts kill animal cells however, if the poison was inactive, it aids reproduction.

**Stirring anti-clockwise first for seven cycles: **Anti-clockwise is to "undo" the person that is drinking the potion and I chose to have seven cycles (turns) as seven is the most magical number. Clockwise for two to balance and bring in to play the new person that they are becoming.


	5. What If It Was All Worth It

**What If Series: The Black Prince**

**by Miss Mysteria**

**Chapter Five**

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**Auror's Tortured Into Insanity!**

_It has been three weeks since the downfall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and sadly, this reported has more fatalities to report. Alice and Frank Longbottom (Lord of House Longbottom), are now permanent residents in the secure section of St. Mungo's due to the vicious actions from You-Know-Who's three lieutenants Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange and, shocking the Wizarding Community yet again, Bartemius Crouch Jr., the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Bartemius Crouch's son. This revelation comes from Head Auror, Alastor Moody and his second in command, Amelia Bones. The trial for the four Death Eaters who tortured Lord and Lady Longbottom into Insanity for information of the whereabouts of their Lord is scheduled for two weeks from this day (the 14th of November). The Daily Prophet has reached out to Bartemius Crouch Sr. for comment, and so far have been ignored. _

_Our thoughts and prayers go out to the Longbottom's family members and their son, Heir Neville Longbottom. _

The rest of the front page of the newspaper was covered with a large photograph and Sirius recognised it straight away. It had been one Lily had taken of Frank and Alice after an Auror meeting when they had come back to Godric's Hollow for dinner. Alice and Lily had roomed together in Gryffindor, so had been best friends, not unlike he and James, since first year. Frank had been in the year above but thanks to Quidditch, the Marauders had known him since second year when James had joined the team and third year when Sirius had as a beater and Remus had taken over commentating the matches. They were sat at the Potter's small, rounded dining table, Frank's arm over the back of Alice's chair. Alice was laughing raucously at the camera, something Lily had said no doubt, and Frank was playfully rolling his eyes, but staring at his wife and smiling all the same. Then he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the side of her forehead and she looked over with a love-filled grin before playfully patting his cheek.

He hadn't known them well before the war. He had heard from James throughout their years at school that Lily's best friend among her dorm mates was Alice, and so James had focused on becoming friends with her to try and get Lily to see that he was in fact a nice guy and not a 'dirty toe-rag' and he had known Frank as one of the Chaser's on the Quidditch team and for a few years was even captain, but he hadn't been friends with him. Remus had been close with Alice, due to their shared love of books, but they hadn't become friends before seventh year when James and Lily finally started dating. He would be crushed. Sirius had tried to get in contact with Remus, but according to all channels of communication he went through, Remus was still away with the werewolf packs. Sirius had only really got to know Alice and Frank properly when they all joined up with the Order of the Phoenix. Late nights in the dark, studying spells with Frank that could be considered dark. Laughing hysterically with Alice when a prank followed through, clutching onto each other as James, Lily and Frank stared at them with disbelief as smelly gunk fell on top of them from the corner of a door. Going and getting absolutely plastered with Frank, who could _not _hold his fire whiskey and having to call Alice and Remus to come and carry them home. Smiling through happy tears when he heard the first cries of Neville Longbottom from the waiting room, stood with Remus, James, Peter, Lily and Mary MacDonald, Marlene McKinnon and Dorcas Meadows (Lily and Alice's dorm mates at Hogwarts). Laughing madly when Lily went into labour only seconds after Neville had been born. Announcing that Alice was Harry's godmother and Sirius was his godfather, that Remus and Lily were Neville's. That the two boys were god-brothers.

Sirius had never met Augusta Longbottom. He had heard horror story's from Alice in the dark of the Weasley's kitchen, McGonagall's conservatory, Sirius' apartment. She was foreboding, overbearing, rude, thought Frank above all else. But, he had heard the softness in her voice, and the underlying compliments. She was fiercely protective, loved Neville with every last ounce of her and wanted only the very best for her grandson, cared for Alice deeply like a mother would. But, even so, he felt for the woman. After all, who else would take Neville in other than his grandmother? There were no other Longbottom's left, other than Algae, but the man was a drunk and a good-for-nothing. Augusta's husband had died a few years prior, Frank and Alice were now...incapacitated and she now had a one year old to care for. Much like Sirius. But what the woman didn't have was an Arcturus and Melania Black to lean on. To protect her. The woman was fierce, yes, but the bringing up of a child was enough to break even the strongest of people. He wanted ot help her, but knew that she was _very much unlikely _to accept help from a Black, now that Bellatrix had done something...so, so despicable. So, he went to the one person who could help. Arcturus.

Of course, the man had already been up and running about. More and more speeches, press releases, donations to charities and the Ministry. Quotes like "Bellatrix Lestrange is just that, a Lestrange. She no longer bears the Black name, and she will never again." and "Her actions, as well as the other three, have shook me to my very core. My Heir, Sirius Black, was friends and allies with both Lord and Lady Longbottom, having fought the Dark Lord by their sides and going through Hogwarts together and suffers from their loss greatly." It was manipulative, yes. Plain and simple. Sirius did suffer from their loss, but he was still stuck in the grief of losing James and Lily. So he would get through the emotions with their death's, before thinking of moving forward from Alice and Frank's...loss. It probably wasn't healthy, but it was too much loss to quickly and he had to be there for Harry...or, Lorcan.

Melania had actually shed tears when Sirius had brought the new Harry downstairs for breakfast that morning. A new baby Black, she had said. And that had got Sirius thinking, sooner or later, they would need to show Lorcan off to the public. The search for Harry Potter was still going on, but everyday less and less people went out and looked. Harry looked like Sirius, he did, practically a carbon copy, but he still had Lily's eyes. That would have been a problem, had it not been for Melania. Arcturus had suggested that Sirius say that he and Lily had had a relationship, but Sirius had turned that down flat. He was not about to tarnish his friend's memory with a fake side relationship. He hadn't know what else to do though, until his grandmother had asked him about his sexuality. It had been so sudden, Sirius had been gobsmacked. Silence had reigned over the office, with just Harry gurgling in his great-grandmother's arms and her smiling down at him (those two had grown scarily close so quickly) until she had continued with the idea that Sirius could announce Lorcan as his Heir when the time came to it, or the Potter Heir having been claimed at Gringott's, and then say that Lorcan was the Potter Heir because Lily had offered her eggs for Sirius and his relationship with Remus Lupin well before her pregnancy, and when she had fallen pregnant, they had finally used it and used a surrogate to birth Lorcan.

Sirius had to sit down. It wasn't a _secret _that he was pansexual. He hadn't tried to hide it, talking about it all over Hogwarts when he had come out to his friends and they had accepted him with open arms, and from then on James had made jokes that Sirius was after 'anything that had legs', which was true. But after a while, in their sixth year at Hogwarts, Sirius realised that the only person he was after was Remus. Remus who was straight. Or so he thought until they got drunk on fire whiskey on their last night in Gryffindor Tower in the common room and Sirius had 'accidentally' kissed him. He had pulled back amongst the whistles and shouts, embarrassed, but Remus had rolled his eyes and tugged him back. They had dated for a year, before the distance got too much for them, with Remus going into werewolf packs Merlin knew where, risking his life and Sirius fighting the Death Eaters in England and Europe with the Ministry and the Order. The thought of one of them not coming back got too much, and just before Harry's birthday, they had broke it off.

When his shocked eyes had met the casual ones of his grandparents at the revelation Melania had rolled her eyes and said, "It is hard to not know when Walburga would screech about it non-stop." Arcturus had nodded, and then finalised that as the plan they would do. Sirius had made them wait before announcing it, he would wait to let Remus know. They hadn't seen each other since they had broken up, and it would no doubt be awkward. But he knew that Remus would understand, he would have to. And when he had informed Remus, they would announce that Lorcan would become Heir Potter and on his fifteenth birthday, Lord Potter. They would gave to go to Gringott's and get a blood test, and no doubt that Lorcan was Lily Potter's son and Dorea Potter was his grandmother (magic didn't care about blood when it came to marriage, once you were married by magical binding, you became of that bloodline), he would not be contested for the title as there was no one else who was even that closely related. But, they would also have to wait until Harry...well, until Harry was pronounced deceased. They couldn't announce that Lorcan was the Heir to House Potter when people thought that Harry Potter was still alive. So, it may even take a few years, but in the end it would all be worth it. And Once Remus was in the know, Lorcan was sworn in as Heir Potter, Sirius would then move to ally himself and help Augusta Longbottom with Neville.

He would have to wait, but it would all be worth it, in the end.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry this chapter's so ****short! It's more of a filler than anything else, setting up Sirius' and Remus' relationship, showing memories of Sirius and Frank and Alice and setting up what is going to happen in the future.**

**Loads of love, **

**MM xx**


	6. What If Time Flashed Forward

**What If Series: The Black Prince**

**by Miss Mysteria**

**Chapter Six**

* * *

Six years had passed and life could not have been better. Well, of course it could have been. But, it was the best it could be with certain people not in their lives.

Remus had come back from South Africa a little worse for wear. He hadn't known that Voldemort had been defeated, he hadn't known that James and Lily weren't alive and he hadn't known that Harry was 'missing'. Thankfully enough, Sirius had intercepted him before he went to Dumbledore for more information, the Headmaster seemingly was on a mission to find Harry and suspected Sirius of kidnapping and possible murder. It didn't help that he had gone to his family, that Dumbledore considered the worst of the worst. Sirius explained quickly what had happened, had introduced Remus to his grandparents, Melania immediately informing the house-elves to 'fatten him up'. Arcturus was awkward. He might not have an issue with half bloods, or sexuality's but with werewolves, well...he had been brought up in a certain way with certain ideologies. He had introduced him to Lorcan, telling him straight away that he was Harry. Remus had breathed in the child's scent and had believed him instantly, especially with Lorcan reaching out to him calling him "Moo-y!".

After that, they had discussed the plan. Remus had agreed that it was a good idea for them to say that Lily had given them an egg to help them conceive a child, and that they had kept him hidden for fear of Voldemort or Sirius' family (like Bellatrix) attacking the baby. However, he disagreed that they should announce Lorcan Hadrian Black to the world so soon. He reasoned that if he was Dumbledore or someone like Elphias Dodge, he would think that Lorcan was Harry. Which he was, but they couldn't know that. He suggested that they wait a year or so, wait for the searches for Harry to die down to nothing, or almost nothing and then announce him. Or, even, wait for him to reach seven, where it was law for the Heir's to Ancient Houses to be introduced to the Wizengamot. And as Lorcan was the third in line to the House Black throne, he would be forced to introduce him then anyway. So, Sirius agreed, informing his grandparents and then inviting Remus to stay over as the man didn't have anywhere to stay.

They had stayed in Black Manor with Harry for two years, before getting their own place in Watford in a Black home called Ravenswood House. It wasn't as big as Black Manor, but it was larger than Grimmauld Place. They had three house elves that helped them care for Lorcan. There were four bedrooms; one master, two guest and one nursery, a parlour room, dining room, entrance hall and kitchens. It took them a while to get used to the space and silence, but after about a year or so, they agreed that it felt like home. Sirius and Remus started to date again, eventually getting married in a secret ceremony conducted by Arcturus in the gardens of Black manor, as was custom for an Heir of the House. remus tool on the Black last name, the three of them (Sirius, Remus and Lorcan Black) becoming an actual family, with Remus marrying Sirius and actually become a member of the Black family magic and step-father by magic of Lorcan.

When Lorcan had turned five and began to realise what was going on, Sirius and Remus took him to Gringotts. They had thought to take him through Diagon Alley first, letting the child experience his first time in the beloved streets. They had spent time in Magical Melange, looking at all the different animals, but Harry not taking a liking to any of them other than a baby white owl up in the rafters. Sirius had taken Harry next door to Quality Quidditch Supplies while Remus stayed behind and bought the owl for his son with a happy smile on his face. After a few months in Black Manor, Arcturus had announced that he had sent off owls to a few departments in the Ministry for Remus to get a job at (Sirius not needing one as he was Heir to an Ancient House. With that came an interview a few weeks later in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, being a translator for the Minister and other high up bodies in the Ministry. The fact that he was a werewolf hadn't daunted them, or at least hadn't daunted the interviewer, who said that she had already booked him off once a month for the full moon. It meant that whenever foreign Ministry members that the British Ministry of Magic wanted to impress (or babysit) came over to England, Remus was expected to be there when they arrived and stay with them, translating for them and for the English speakers whenever necessary. It also meant that he would get a salary, a rather good one, and get to stay around Lorcan and Sirius and come home every night. He had been beyond grateful to Arcturus, the man only smiling tight lipped and nodding his head. Remus understood his awkwardness and it made it all the more better for him that the man was trying.

Once he had bought the owl, he had met up with Sirius and Lorcan again outside of the Quidditch store, keeping the baby owlet on his shoulder as it was too young to be able to fly such a long distance as Ravenswood and then they walked up to Gringotts. They were recognised immediately; Sirius as an Heir, Lorcan as third in line and Remus as a consort of the House and were taken to a private room without many people seeing them. Sirius had become someone that Remus hadn't seen before. A real Black; his grey eyes strong and demanding as he announced that he was claiming the Potter line for his son, as the boy was the closest relative to the Potters. The Goblins had performed a paternity test, magical test and blood test. The results were pretty much as they expected, save for a few surprises, but the wide eyes of the Goblins were amusing to say the least.

**_Lorcan Hadrian Black_**

**_PATERFAMILIAS: _**_H__eir Sirius Orion Black_

_**MATERFAMILIAS: **Lady Lily Rose Potter **(DECEASED)**_

**_CONSORT: _**_Remus Lyall Black__ (nee Lupin)_

**_GODFATHER: _**_Lord James Charlus Potter_**_ (DECEASED)_**

**_GODMOTHER: _**_Lady Alice Longbottom_**_ (INCAPACITATED)_**

**_INHERITANCE: _**_Third In Line - BLACK__  
First In Line - POTTER_

**_VAULTS: _**_8__72 - BLACK TRUST (Blood)__  
208 - LUPIN TRUST (Magic)  
__687 - POTTER (Blood)_  
_ 994 - PEVERELL (Magic)  
997 - SLYTHERIN (Magic-Contest)_

After that, the Goblins had been very courteous and quick at performing the ceremony to invoke Lorcan as Heir Potter. There had only ever been three Head's of two Houses, one of which was a man named Lord Riddle, who had been Lord Slytherin and Gaunt by bloodline, but had never come to Gringotts to perform the ceremony (Sirius and Remus had shared a look between them and then down at the Slytherin Vault labeled as Lorcan receiving it through 'contest' and there was only ever one who he had duelled with in magic). The others were a Lady Prewett-Malfoy in the 1600's and a Lord Black-Nott in the 1800's, and the Goblins were obviously recognising the amount of power Lorcan would wield as Lord Black-Potter. On his fifteenth birthday, they had been informed, Lorcan would take his place as Lord Potter on the Wizengamot. He could choose a proxy if he wished, until he turned seventeen and took on the mantle himself. On his seventh birthday, by magical law, he would be taken and sworn in as Heir Potter and Third in Line to the Black throne, and it was then up to the Houses to decide if the child would join Arcturus and Sirius on Wizengamot meetings.

The Goblins then took a trip down to the Potter Vault whilst the explanation was occurring, retrieved the Potter Heir and Lord ring, before handing the Lord one to Sirius for safe keeping until Harry's fifteenth birthday, and then allowed Remus to place the Potter Heir ring on Harry's ring finger on his right hand. The ring was much like the Black ring in style, but different in colour. The stone was a red onyx, carved with the crest of the Potter family, set in a gold bad that had been sculpted to create several golden griffins, wings spanning a few centimetres across the skin, locking the ring in place. One of the Griffins' head rested somewhat onto the red stone, with its mouth open slightly. That was where a red and gold mist of magic spurted out of and fell into sparks around the clapping and smiling five year old. Lorcan had looked up at them both, who stared with happy tears in their eyes as he reached for their hands.

"Padfoot and Moony! Padfoot and Moony! Did ya' see? Did ya?"

Remus had taken Sirius' hand and ran his other through Lorcan's hair, which was beginning to curl at the ends, in the same way Lily's had done. "Yes, we saw. Well done, Lor'. Well done."

Sirius had allowed his son a short, proud-filled smile, before turning into his Heir Black mask once again and facing the Goblins. He had requested that the Black Trust Vault monies and any future donations to it be placed in the Potter Vault, and any donation from the public into the Potter Vault be given to the James and Lily Potter Foundation. He had then requested a bag that would be connected to the Potter Vault be given to them as well as monthly statements from all Vaults that Lorcan was entitled to. They had been preparing to leave when the Goblins had asked if they would like to reclaim all items to the Potter Vault that were not there. Sirius had asked which were missing, a hardness in his eyes that somebody would take Potter family Heirlooms, and had been provided with a list of parchment and locations of where the items were. After reading through, he had demanded that all items be acquired and placed in the Potter Vault, later telling Remus over a late-night bourbon (with Remus having chamomile tea) that most of it was either at Hogwarts in the Headmaster or Potion Master quarters or in Godric's Hollow. Which meant that Dumbledore and Snape had some of James and Lily's stuff.

After that, they had left the bank, Sirius' mask slipping away like water and then they explored the Alley more, with Lorcan running all over the place, sprinting to one stall, then the next, babbling away about what the venders had on their carts and asking the people what things were as Sirius and Remus walked hand-in-hand behind them. There had been some double-takes, people realising these were the Potter's friends with a son that looked just like a Black, but as it had been years since Harry Potter's disappearance and then assumed death, no one thought anything of the idea that this could be Harry Potter. It especially helped that not many knew of the potion to change one's genetics. Occasionally, there was the odd shop owners who offered them condolences, and a conversation with Lorcan about toad-legs uses in potions and why cauldron cakes were called cauldron cakes, the odd glance of sympathy, a few hugs from the workers in the Quality Quidditch Supplies shops where James had worked in the summer before his seventh year, his father wanting the boy to know more about money and not just spend it haphazardly. But other than that, it had been a day to remember for their little family, with Lorcan recalling it in years to come as his first day out with his dads.

There was nothing to stop them, then, from going back out day after day. They had trips to Diagon Alley, Horizont Way in Cobham, markets in Appleby, sweet shops in Hogsmeade. Day's out in muggle London to museums, plays, movies. Even so, as this all occurred, they still went to Black Manor at least three times a week; Arcturus needing to work with his Heir and Melania wanting to see Remus and Harry. The house-elves kept up the work in the nursery that had stayed in the Manor, updating it whenever Harry decided that he preferred yellow over green, or purple over silver (and whenever this happened, Melania always found a way to incorporate the Slytherin colours into Harry's life, either with icing on cakes or little shoes he got for Christmas. Sirius realised the subtle manipulation for what it was, but Remus had put his foot down and allowed it. It was not as though James wouldn't have done the same but for Gryffindor and it wasn't as though the boy's great-grandmother - who told him to call her mimi which Sirius had been flabbergasted at as he still had to call her grandmother - was outright saying he had to be in Slytherin). Whenever it was a full-moon, Sirius and Remus stayed at Ravenswood in the warded outhouse whilst Lorcan stayed with his grandparents.

Sirius had reached out to Augusta at this point. He realised that it had been a while since he had said he would, but after the first successful public outing with his son and Remus and no one the wiser, he had felt more confident. He sent a letter, asking after their health's, how Alice and Frank were doing, and stating that he had a son Neville's age who had been kept under wraps for his own protection. He said that his son was now at an age where he wanted to go out and explore, he wanted friends, and so, Sirius had requested a play date. He had expected a not-so-polite refusal, having it been a Black who had put her son and daughter-in-law in the hospital in the state they were in, but when a letter returned with an approval and date that the Lady Longbottom expected them, Sirius had forced himself to not be surprised and think over why she had said yes.

The answer was more obvious than he would've thought. In the past years, despite getting older, Arcturus had been a savant at politics. More money to charities and Ministry Departments and St. Mungo's, speeches on subjects from muggle-borns being part of us (which he didn't necessarily believe) and reenacting the old ways (such as rituals and darker magics), pushing through laws in the Wizengamot that would paint the Black's in a better light, testifying on Death Eater trials, assisting 'Light' side in getting their laws through the Wizengamot but going against old friends and allies such as the Malfoy's (not that old Abraxas minded, he knew exactly what his old friend was doing and supported him in every way whilst doing the same thing himself, but less successfully). All of this combined with Sirius (a known Order of the Phoenix member and old Hit-Wizard) becoming his Heir and the announcement of his and Remus' (a werewolf and a known Order of the Phoenix member who had risked his life in the war fighting against the dark) bonding had painted the Black name in a much better light. They were 'officially' neutral, much like the Longbottom's. Although many people saw them as Dark still, their public stance was respect and neutrality which sat well with many Lord's and Lady's in the political world.

Neville and Lorcan were best friends from the moment they laid eyes on each other, having been the only child their age they had permission to play with. As soon as they saw each other, it was hugs, holding hands and running around Longbottom Mansion under the tired but careful eye of the head house-elf Roody. They played on their mini-brooms that only went a few feet off of the ground all over the large grounds of the Mansion, they wrestled in the Entrance Hall, the parlour and every other room the house and they finger-painted the pearly white floors with 'Hogwarts House Paints' that Neville had been given for his birthday (colours that came in blue, green, yellow and red) and stencils that Harry had been given for his. They had met for the first time when they were both five, and by the time they were seven they were firm best friends, the kind only a childhood could forge, even if it had only been two years, for them (and for Sirius, Augusta, Remus and Arcturus and Melania - who had met Neville several times over the years when he would come and have sleepovers on full-moons with Lorcan) it had been forever. Augusta and Neville didn't know that Lorcan was Harry Potter, and Sirius and Remus would never tell them. If Lorcan wanted to when he was older (they had never kept it a secret in their house. They had told him from an early age that his _birth name _was Harry James Potter, that his _birth parents _were Lily and James Potter and that most of the wizarding world considered 'Harry Potter' dead or permanently missing. They had told him it was a secret, and that secrets were only to be shared with people who you would trust with -when he was young- Lily, his owl who seemed to be latched onto his shoulder since he had got her -and when he was older, around seven- with his life.

But, with this secret, came the fact that now that it had been years since Harry Potter's death, Albus Dumbledore was on the search for a new Saviour. A new Harry Potter. So when he had approached Augusta Longbottom after a Wizengamot session in 1986, when Sirius and Remus were watching Lorcan and Neville in Ravenswood House, he thought he would get an immediate yes. Neville Longbottom, so he had thought, was a friendless child, being brought up by a friendless Augusta Longbottom, who was not weak politically or mentally, was physically and had to be suffering from lack of people around her she could trust. What he didn't expect or know was that for four times a week over the past year, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin had become her friends, or...as friendly as one could get with Augusta. She also had become close allies with Melania Black, whom she had known in school, although she hadn't conversed with her. He also didn't expect or know Neville to already have a best friend ten times over in the form of Lorcan Black. So, when the women had flat out denied his asking for an audience with her in her home or at Hogwarts, even when he had said it to be of the upmost importance and effecting her grandson's life, he was shocked, massively shocked. Almost as shocked as he had been when the items in his office that once belonged in Godric's Hollow seemingly disappeared overnight. He had expected, if not a yes, then a niceness from her. He was Albus Dumbledore, leader of the Light Side in the war and now in a political battle with the dark (annoyingly being aided by Arcturus Black, which he still hadn't figured out why other than to restore his name) and had not expected to be rejected rudely by a Longbottom.

He also wasn't aware that Augusta then, instead of going to Longbottom Mansion, went to Ravenswood House and sat and had tea with Remus Lupin on the decking as they watched Sirius Black turn into his animagus form (which he was now _fully_ registered for_, thank you very much) _and chase the two screaming children around the grounds. Dumbledore also didn't know that she mentioned it in passing to Remus, who's eyes sharpened and glowed amber for a moment, before the wolf was being wrestled under his control. At that moment, it was not the wolf's anger that Harry Potter was being passed over like nothing, but that another newly added cub of his pack was being targeted; Neville. When Sirius was working and Augusta was tired, which was often, Remus would take the children out for the day. Swimming in muggle pools, to the beach, to the park, to cinema's - anything or anywhere they wouldn't be recognised. So, because of this, Remus' inner wolf had recognised Neville's scent as one of its cubs. One of his own. He wasn't sure if Augusta knew this, but whenever she left her grandson with him, she did not warn him to be careful, or give him a look as if to say 'if he comes back so much as scratched I will end you' like she did others, so he suspected that she might have an inkling.

He informed Sirius of it later, when they were laying in bed and could hear Harry and Neville (who had stayed for a sleepover - one of the countless) giggling and trying but failing to be quiet. Sirius had been angry, Remus could tell from the way his body had tensed next to him. Remus had reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it. He had wanted to say 'at least he's given up on Harry', but that seemed irrelevant now that he was trying to train Neville into something that would be a fighting machine against the Dark. They both knew Albus Dumbledore well, they had fought side-by-side with him in the war, and they knew he wouldn't stop at a 'no' from Augusta. The public wouldn't have it, which was one good thing, they knew. There would be outcry if Dumbledore announced that Neville Longbottom was their Saviour, and it wouldn't work. Harry Potter was legend now, he had his own chocolate frog card (his birth date was only a year before his death date) and a flavour named after him in Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Sirius had found it amusing that this was Lorcan's favourite flavour (salted caramel and marsh-mellows). But until there was something that they could do about it, like if the man started to harass Augusta, there was almost no point talking about it.

So they didn't.

Another year passed with much of the same as the last, only this time they were joined at Black Manor for Christmas by Augusta and Neville and had New Years away from Black Manor's annual ball and with the Longbottom's at their Mansion. This year was a big one, and Sirius, Remus, Melania and Arcturus knew that. Lorcan Black would be introduced to the _world, _not just some people in Diagon Alley. He would be announced as the Heir to the Potter throne, something that had been supposedly dead since Lord James Potter's death. In fact, they had had several letters from Gringotts informing them of people who had tried to come into Gringott's and claim it; such as the Malfoy's, through Narcissa's Black side, which Sirius had grudgingly admitted was acceptable, seeing as he would have done the sam, and Albus Dumbledore for Bill Weasley, through Arthur's grandmother's marriage with a Potter. Both Remus and Sirius heavily doubted the Weasley's had anything to do with that last one. They had all been informed that someone else held its seat, and the assumed thought had been that Gringotts would keep Harry Potter as rightful Lord and Heir until he was declared dead, which worked well for them.

By the time May rolled around, Sirius had become almost unbearable to be around, with his nervous ticks, angry outbursts and hugging Lorcan desperately any chance he got. EH was immensely worried that Lorcan would be found out and taken from them, something that Remus shared, but wasn't as obvious about. So during March and April, Lorcan and Remus spent a lot of time over at Longbottom Mansion as Sirius went over to Black Manor to do research in the main library about how they would best go about the Wizengamot session.

The first of May and September were the 'set' Wizengamot sessions. If someone, namely a Lord or Lady of a Noble and Ancient House needed to do something like announce an Heir or Bonding - like Arcturus had done - then they were to do it there. There were also 'called' sessions, where the people involved would get letters and/or notified by assistants when these were and they were usually to discuss a law that was being pushed through, there were about three in a year of these. And lastly there were 'emergency' sessions, for trials or situations that needed to be discussed immediately. The Chief Warlock, who happened to be Albus Dumbledore, would send a notice through everyone's Ancient House rings and the available Lord's and Lady's would show for a session. On the first of May, Augusta, Joe Follen (a muggleborn proxy that James and Lily had chosen for the Potter seat when they had gone into hiding) and several other Lord's and Lady's would announce their Heir's and allow them to sit in the Heir seats next to their own. Follen was already aware of who the Heir to the Potter seat was, and after congratulating Sirius and Remus and shaking a bouncing five-year-old Lorcan's hand had said that he would be happy to introduce Lorcan as the Potter Heir and continue on as proxy in his name until such time when they did not need him.

The morning of the first of May, Lorcan and his dads had slept over at Black Manor as he, Sirius and Arcturus would arrive together, meeting Augusta and Nev' in the Ministry Atrium and leaving Neville and Lorcan with the other Heir's in a side hall, ready to go into the Wizengamot Chamber when called by their Heir rings, one at a time. Lorcan was nervous, no matter how much he told his dads that he wasn't. He had spent a lot of his younger years with Mimi -his grandmother- (and his grandfather, but not as often as his grandmother), so he was already pretty good at judging people's emotions, at least people that he knew well anyway. He could tell Pad's was nervous, 'positively shitting it' as the man himself had said the other day when he had thought that Lorcan wasn't listening. He also understood why they were worried; his birth name was Harry Potter and his dad had taken him from Godric's Hollow when he had been a baby. People in the wizard world thought that Harry Potter was dead cause his dads had renamed him Lorcan Black and blood adopted him. So he was nervous as well, if anyone found out they didn't know what they'd do, but he wasn't as nervous as they were. Or, not for the same reasons.

Lorcan sighed and pulled his quilt back, rolling his eyes slightly at the green silk. Mimi was not subtle, but it was something he loved about her. He slid his feet into his slippers and padded over to where Emmett (his house elf when he came to his grandparents house) had laid out his clothes for today. A deep blue silk button-down shirt which he was to wear with black slacks, matching blue socks and shiny black Oxford shoes. Over the top, he pulled on his black over-robe that had the Black and Potter crests printed on, one in its signature silver and the other in gold and then reached for his wand-holster that was to go under his robe, but over the top of his shirt. After clasping it together and seeing the hooks melt into the fabric, he let out a nervous sigh, pushed his hand through his hair and walked out of his room as his locks fell to just above his shoulders again. He had grown his hair out since he was a kid, since Padfoot had his hair long and his Mimi liking to run her fingers through it whenever she gave him a hug. He loved the walk from his bedroom to the dining room; there were portraits hung all over the walls of his ancestors and he liked hearing his footsteps echo around the walls.

"Lorcan, are you going now?" called out a high, scratchy voice form his left and he smiled before turning to face the portrait as he walked. It was his great, great grandmother Hesper Black, walking quickly through other paintings, shoving others out of the way as she followed him down the hallway. Hesper had been one of the first portraits Lorcan had talked to, like _really talked to_. It had been the first night that Moons and Pad's had been out on a full moon, or it might've even been a date night (they had one of those once a month-ish). She knew that today was the first of May and that it was the day he would be introduced, it had been a huge topic of conversation for a while. She didn't _know _why he hadn't been 'shown off proudly, like every Black should be', as she had said, but she understood that he had been somewhat frustrated by it and that the reason was important and secret. Even if she hadn't been pleased with the fact that Neville was a Longbottom, she was happy that he was happy when he introduced them, 'his Grannie and his Neville' was what he had said. Because she was his Grannie, just as Mimi was his Mimi and Paddy was his Paddy and Moons was his Moons and Nev' was his Neville, even if they hadn't met in real life.

"Yeah, today is the day." he replied, walked backwards so he could watch her speed through the other portraits, glaring at those who dared to complain as her elbows knocked into them. "I'm not as nervous as I thought I would be."

"Give it time, boy. You'll be shaking-"

"Cygnus, be silent!" Hesper screeched like a banshee across the hallway at another painting of an older man with grey hair and a high-and-mighty look. Lorcan knew this to be Cygnus Black, his great Uncle. Her eyes softened as she looked back down at him as they moved down the hall and away from his Uncle. "It is good not to be worried."

"Oh no, I am worried. Very. But not nervous."

"Yes, well, it is important to distinguish between the two. Good luck. And remember, Black's are the purest of the pure, you are better than the rest!"

Lorcan smiled and waved as he turned the corner and the rows of the portraits stopped and he stepped into the dining room. He greeted his grandfather Arcturus who was sat at the head of a table with a small smile and a nod before taking his seat two seats down from his. As his grandfather was the Head of their House, he sat at the end of the table, followed by on his right his Mimi and then on his left was Sirius, then Lorcan and on Mimi's right was Remus. At the moment, Sirius and Remus were most likely working themselves up in their room. Lorcan shook his head amusedly as a breakfast of crispy bacon, marmalade toast and scrambled eggs appeared in front of him, a perfect contrast with his grandfather's of yogurt and raspberries.

Arcturus glared at Lorcan's grin as he unhappily scooped up more yogurt, "None of that," he gestured his full spoon at his grandson who tried to hide his smile, "One day your own partner will force you to eat shite like this."

"Language," a voice snapped out from the door and his Mimi entered, glaring at her husband. She walked around to Lorcan's chair and placed her hand over his head and he leaned into her touch as she passed him. She smiled at him, before moving her eyes back to Arcturus who was refusing to eat his breakfast. She pushed the bowl back to him, "Eat it or be sorry later when your stomach growls in the middle of the session." She sat in her seat with a sigh.

A breakfast of oatmeal with bananas and a side of tea with a sugar pot appeared in front of her. His grandfather grumbled and aggressively ate a scoop of the yogurt, glaring at his wife the entire time. She ignored him and faced Lorcan, a light smile flirting at her lips, "Are you nervous for today? I would understand if you were."

He shook his head and took a bite of his toast. He swallowed. "Not nervous. Scared, I think though."

"And why is that?" Arcturus asked, strong voice cutting across whatever Mimi was about to say. She allowed it though, and Lorcan assumed this was because it was the same as what she had been about to ask.

Lorcan almost shrugged, _almost_, but then remembered who he was with and tilted his head to the side. "Well, I have to walk out by myself. In front of a lot of people, important people. What if I trip? Or fall over completely? Or shake a lot?"

His grandmother shook her head, "You will be fine, my raven," he smiled at her pet-name for him, "Just be sure of your actions."

"Your grandmother is correct. The people in that chamber are weak minded, you are a Black and a Potter. A born leader. You complete your actions with confidence and they will follow."

Lorcan nodded. He wished their words helped, but he needed to know where to get the confidence _from_. He was sure he would feel better with Nev' by his side, but as of now, he felt very much like a muggle going into Diagon for the first time.

A few minutes of silence passed with just the noises of the scraping of silverware against plates until his dads entered quickly and sat down in their seats, flashing smiles at Lorcan. He laughed quietly at the disgruntled expression on his grandfather's face as they only had ten minutes before they had to leave for the session and Padfoot began to wolf down his breakfast of bacon, scone's and jam and cream. Moony just rolled his eyes and met eyes with Lorcan across the table as Padfoot knocked his knee with his own.

"You will be fine today, Lorcan, you know you will. Confidence is key." His Moony said knowledgeably as he took a bite of his buttered toast. Lorcan nodded, but Moony smiled sympathetically, "Remember that we love you, and that as soon as you walk out into the chamber, Sirius and Arcturus will be there. It will be two minutes and that's that." That helped, actually. He didn't expect it to, but when he thought about it, it would only be a few minutes in his life. He nodded again, more confident this time and Moony noticed it as he smiled and then looked back down at his breakfast. Lorcan placed his fork and knife on the empty plate in front of him at the same time as Padfoot next to him and the two dishes disappeared immediately, a few digestion tablets appearing on a small plate in front of Sirius and the man rolled his eyes at the house-elves before swallowing them with his water and standing up, bringing Lorcan up with him.

He ginned at his son, and Lorcan smiled back, "Turn around, let me sort your hair. You don't wanna be going to meet the brats with a _hair out of place._" Lorcan laughed over Arcturus' huff of "Sirius" and turned so his dad could tie his hair back at the nape of his neck.

Padfoot pulled his hair back and groaned, "Your hair is going the same way as your mother's. Curly." He didn't sound happy about it, and Remus chuckled.

"You're just unhappy that he's not _all you._"

Padfoot pushed his chest out as he finished and Lorcan stepped out form his chair and tucked it in, following his grandfather to the door before giving Remus a hug, "What's wrong with being _all me,_ Remmy?"

Remus didn't answer, but instead gave his husband a hug and whispered something in his ear that had his dads smiling face become serious. He nodded, hugged him back and then joined his son and Arcturus at the door.

Arcturus cleared his throat and said to Remus and Melania, "We will see you after the session."

And with that, he apparated them all to the Ministry.


	7. What If An Heir Was Introduced

**What If Series: The Black Prince**

**by Miss Mysteria**

**Chapter Seven **

* * *

Lorcan had never really minded apparation. Yes, it felt like you were being squeezed through a very small keyhole, but still, he didn't mind it. He thought it might be because Sirius and Remus had apparated everywhere when he was younger, not wanting to risk the Knight Bus or other methods of transportation, incase someone recognised him or them. Maybe his body and brain had gotten used to the uncomfortable sensation. He felt his feet hit the ground, his grandfather's hand release his tight grip on his shoulder and quickly opened his eyes.

They were stood at one end of the very long and splendid hall with highly polished, dark wood floor. Peacock-blue ceiling which inlaid with gleaming golden symbols that continually moved and changed like some enormous heavenly notice board. The walls on each side were panelled in shiny dark wood and had many gilded fireplaces set into them. Every few seconds a witch or wizard would emerge from one of the left-hand fireplaces with a soft _whoosh_; on the right-hand side, short queues of wizards were forming before each fireplace, waiting to depart.

Halfway down the hall was the golden fountain. The group of golden statues, larger than life-size, stood in the middle of a circular pool. Tallest of them all was a noble-looking wizard with his wand pointing straight up in the air. Grouped around him were beautiful witches, a centaur, a goblin, and a house-elf. The last three were all looking adoringly up at the witch and wizard. Glittering jets of water were flying from the end wand, the point of the centaur's arrow, the tip of the goblin's hat, and each of the house-elf's ears, so that the tinkling hiss of falling water was added to the pops and cracks of apparaters and the clatter of footsteps as hundreds of witches and wizards, most of whom were wearing glum, early-morning looks, strode toward a set of golden gates at the far end of the hall.

Sirius cleared his throat, trying to ignore the stares the three of them had already garnered and clasped Lorcan's shoulder tightly, right where his grandfather had moments before. Lorcan held out his hand and Sirius placed a dark black twisted wooden wand that buzzed gently in his hand. It was the wand that he had picked from a selection when he was six, as was custom for a pureblood child. To pick a wand from a selection in the family vault and begin to learn simple spells and theories. He slipped the wand into his holster and then pulled his cloak sleeve over the top of it again.

Arcturus inspected them both, before nodding firmly and walking ahead of them. Sirius smiled down at him and they followed the man who was striding, at speed over to one of the nearby desks. Lorcan supposed that it might've taken them longer to get to the desk, and even longer to stand in the queue, if not for the fact that the people who were walking in the same direction or nearby them _literally _walked in the other direction or _stopped dead _in the middle of the hall when they spotted Lord Black, and then Sirius, and then himself, who looked just like Sirius, if not for the slight curl to his hair and his bright, startling green eyes. The people who had already been queueing up stepped aside quickly so that the three of them could be first served, their eyes moving from his grandfather, to Sirius, and then locking onto Lorcan and staying there.

Standing in front of the desk, guarded in between Arcturus and Sirius, Lorcan looked over the desk. There was a badly shaven wizard in peacock-blue robes who was reading a Daily Prophet that was on his desk. The man didn't look up as he held out his hand for something. After a moment, he looked up, opened his mouth perhaps to say something derogatory but paled considerably when he saw who it was standing there.

His grandfather raised an eyebrow and the man instantly closed his newspaper ignoring it when it fell onto the floor and turning pink at the snickers coming from the line behind them. "L-Lord Black, sir, you...you don't have to sign in, sir. I already have your-your notes on file." The man tried to smile as he patted a draw in his desk but it came out more like a grimace.

Arcturus leaned forwards, "I am aware of that, Mister...?"

"Downey, sir. Elias Downey. Sir."

"Yes, Downey," his grandfather sneered, the act making the man in front of him look down and subtly wipe his brow before looking back up again, nervously wringing his hands. Arcturus gestured to Lorcan, who the man evidently hadn't spotted yet as his pale green eyes rapidly darted from Arcturus, to Sirius, to Lorcan and back again. "My grandson is coming in for his introduction today. So _obviously _he hasn't had _his _wand checked yet. Do check it now, _Downey. _And be quick about it, we were supposed to be meeting Lady Longbottom and her Heir five minutes ago."

At the mention of the foreboding Lady Longbottom, as if he wasn't scared enough, the man picked up a long golden rod, thin and flexible as a car aerial, at the same time that Lorcan removed his wand from his holster and held it out in front of him. He glanced up at Lorcan, finding the boy already staring at him and then quickly averted eye contact and passed the rod up and down his front and back. He then took the outstretched wand and dropped it it onto a strange brass instrument, which looked something like a set of scales with only one dish, with a clang that made him wince and turn even redder. It began to vibrate. A narrow strip of parchment came speeding out of a slit in the base. He tore this off and read, shakily, the writing upon it.

"Um- twelve inches, dragon heartstring core, been in use for one year. Is that right?" he peered nervously up at Lorcan through his glasses and almost sagged in relief when Lorcan nodded once and took his wand back from the wizard.

Lorcan gave the man a tight-lipped smile before he felt a hand on his shoulder, his grandfather this time, and was steered away from the desk, back in-between the stalled witches and wizards, through the golden gates and into a smaller hall beyond, where at least twenty lifts stood behind wrought golden grilles.

With a great jangling and clattering a lift descended in front of them; the golden grille slid back and Lorcan, Sirius and Arcturus moved inside it with the rest of the crowd. The three of them found themselvess with a lot of room, compared to the rest of the lift, who were squeezed into a corner. He tried his hardest to not laugh, but could feel a smile pull at his lips. He only hoped he didnt look too smug and posh. He tried to keep his eyes on the golden grilles as several witches and wizards were looking at him curiously. The grilles slid shut with a crash and the life ascended slowly, chains rattling all the while and a cool female rang out.

"Level seven, Department of Magical Games and Sports, incorporating the British and Irish Quidditch League Headquarters, Official Gobstones Club, and Ludicrous Patents Office."

The lift doors opened; Lorcan glimpsed an untidy-looking corridor, with various posters of Quidditch teams tacked lopsidedly on the walls; one of the wizards in the lift, who was carrying an armful of broomsticks, extricated himself with difficulty as he tried to not jostle Arcturus, who pretended he didn't even see the wizard, and disappeared down the corridor. Lorcan watched out of the corner of his eye as his dad tried _very hard _not to burst out laughing.

The doors closed, the lift juddered upward again, and the woman's voice said, "Level six, Department of Magical Transport, incorporating the Floo Network Authority, Broom Regulatory Control, Portkey Office, and Apparation Test Centre."

Once again the lift doors opened and two or three witches and wizards got out; at the same time, several paper airplanes swooped into the lift.

Lorcan didn't ask about the planes, but did watch as one of them kept batting a woman in the face as she tried to push it away. He felt his grandfather squeeze his shoulder and snapped his head back to face the doors.

As they clattered upward again, the memos flapped around the swaying lamp in the lift's ceiling.

"Level five, Department of International Magical Cooperation, incorporating the International Magical Trading Standards Body, the International Magical Office of Law, and the International Confederation of Wizards, British Seats."

When the doors opened, two of the memos zoomed out with a few more witches and wizards, but several more memos zoomed in, so that the light from the lamp in the ceiling flickered and flashed as they darted around it.

"Level four, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, incorporating Beast, Being, and Spirit Divisions, Goblin Liaison Office, and Pest Advisory Bureau."

Some people left, but not all. Sirius couldn't help himself and snorted as a wizard carrying a fire-breathing chicken sprinted out of the doors just as the bird spat out a large breath of purple flames. Arcturus glared at him through side eyes as Lorcan allowed a small smile to play at the corner of his lips.

"Level three, Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, including the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, Obliviator Headquarters, and Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee."

Most people left the lift on this floor except Arcturus, Sirius, Lorcan, and a witch who was reading an extremely long piece of parchment that was trailing on the ground. The remaining memos continued to soar around the lamp as the lift juddered upward again, and then the doors opened and the voice said, "Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services."

The lift doors rattled open.

Arcturus cleared his throat. "Boys." Sirius nodded, and left the lift, followed closely by both Arcturus and Lorcan. They strode onto the floor, Lorcan's eyes flickering over their surroundings; golden walls with accents of peacock blue - seemingly the Ministry's colour - doors to numerous offices open left and right, people jogging, walking, sprinting through the hallway, making sure to not hit any of the three of them, eyes going slightly wide at how close some of them came.

He knew that they were meeting Neville and his grandmother just outside something that his dad and grandfather had called 'the side chamber', where he, Neville and the other Heir's would wait until their names were called out individually and asking them to present themselves to the Wizengamot and the Wizarding World of Politics. His eyes scanned the corridors as they walked through, ignoring the questions and chatter around them of "who is that with Lord Black?".

Finally, as they reached a large entrance hall that held a multitude of Lords and Lady's with their own Heir's giving last minute advice and hopeful expectations, Lorcan spotted them. Stood in the far corner, the farthest away from the Wizengamot Chamber large mahogany doors, was Neville and his grandmother, who was looking down her nose at any who came too close to them. Throughout his childhood he had heard lots of story's about Madam Longbottom; that she was a force to be reckoned with, mastermind of politics only rivalled, of course, by his grandfather. By the way people seemed ot be giving them a wide berth, Lorcan knew that these story's hadn't been exaggerated. As they approached he let out a sigh of relief; he was dressed similarly to Neville so he wouldn't stand out too much before the ceremony when stood by himself.

Neville was wearing a light grey button-up shirt with a black tie imprinted with the Longbottom crest (two bears on their hind legs facing each other), dark grey trousers and smart shoes. His short hair was gelled back and matched in a strange way with his black silk over-cloak. Madam Longbottom wore a long silver wrap dress that reached the floor, a dark grey robe over the top and high heeled shoes. Lorcan thought they looked incredibly uncomfortable and that might of even been the reason she looked like she had a bad smell under her nose.

Neville's face lit up in relief when he spotted them and only his grandmother's warning hands on his shoulders stopped him from running over and hugging Sirius and Lorcan. When they got closer, they shared a mutual look of disdain and boredom before putting on over the top posh faces on and bowing to each other. Sirius choked over Augusta's hand at their faces but Arcturus and Augusta merely tilted their noses up at them, ignoring their mockery.

Lorcan moved to stand next to his friend. He nudged him subtly with his elbow to catch his attention as they looked out over the hall, "You nervous for this?"

"Nope. Obviously not; why would I be nervous about walking out in front of all the Lord's and Lady's and then tripping and embarrassing myself. Ridiculous suggestion." Neville said, eyes moving out, stopping on some of the Heir's, seeing if he could recognise them before deciding he couldn't and moving on. Lorcan snorted.

"You're not going to trip, Nev'. How many times has your grandmother made you practice your walk?"

Neville winced, "At least ten. She doesn't want me to embarrass her."

Lorcan nodded, "Mimi made me do it for her for _hours. _I was just walking around the parlour as she and Moony watched me and made notes," he pulled a face, "It's _just walking. _Who cares?"

"Everyone. I bet the Malfoy's made their son practice it non-stop." Sirius whispered loudly from behind them where he was stood with their grandparents, "They're such posh tossers they probably think that their son scuffing his shoes a bit on the floor in the Chamber will force them to bribe another Department in the Ministry." Sirius and the two boys chortled before yelping as their respective Head's of Houses elbowed them in their sides.

Lorcan cleared his throat after a few seconds of silence surrounded the group. He turned to face Neville slightly, "Heard about the new chaser on the Tornadoes?"

Neville rolled eyes, "Who _hasn't? _Did you see his shot on Sunday made the Daily Prophet it was that bad!"

"Not really surprised; what was his transfer fee again from the Cannons? Something low, wasn't it?"

"Around ten thousand galleons."

"Whoah! I didn't think it was that low!"

Arcturus placed hands on both of their shoulders, making them both snap their heads up to look at him, "Well, we can deduce that his performance certainly reflects the amount. However, now we must discuss more important matters. We have three minutes before it is acceptable for myself, Augusta and Sirius to be in our seats." He cast a stern eye over them both and they tried their best to look innocent. Sirius tried to hide a chuckle at their wide eyes. "I trust you both know that you are representing the next generation of our Houses. You both understand what you have to do?" They both nodded at teh same time and Arcturus squeezed their shoulders before handing them off to their respective guardians. Augusta merely patted Neville on the head and whispered some last words of advice as Sirius pulled his son in for a hug and whispered against his ear.

"I know we said to keep your tongue quiet until your name is called, but I've spotted some of the Heir's giving you some looks, probably their parents asking about it. I give you permission to do what you do best. Just...don't tell your grandfather or Remus. They might castrate me."

Lorcan smiled up at his dad as they pulled apart, "Understood. I'll see you in there, yeah?" Sirius nodded, pride in his eyes as he watched his son and Neville make their way through the small doors and into the side chamber.

* * *

As soon as they entered, the doors closed shut behind them magically. The chamber most likely sensing their magics as the last ones to enter the room. All eyes of the gorup turned to them. There were six kids their age inside the room in a big group and Lorcan and Neville shared a look before walking towards them.

They were greeted by someone who appeared to have claimed the spot as 'leader' who had stark blonde hair and blue eyes. A Malfoy no doubt. His dad had explained the snooty look all too well.

"Who are you?" the Malfoy Heir demanded, voice high and squeaky. Lorcan winced at it before straightening his back, revelling in the fact that he was the tallest in the group.

"What a rude way to start a conversation," he turned to Neville beside him who was wearing a smirk, "wouldn't you agree?"

Neville inclined his head slowly, "Desperately trying to prove himself to the others, clearly. It's an interesting thing to watch. Like primates in a zoo."

The Malfoy Heir's white complexion instantly turned a blotchy red and before he could shout at them, as he appeared to be about to do, they both turned to the others in room and held out their hands, not introducing themselves but waiting for them to do so first. They knew they only had a few moments before the first name would be called and Lorcan would be second.

The other Heir's in the room they found out were Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Ernest Macmillan, Daphne Greengrass and Susan Bones. The Malfoy was named Draco and both boys had to stifle grins when Theodore Nott introduced him, it wasn't quite a slight to Draco, but it made them all aware that Draco was not the little leader of their group. If anything this made Draco's face go more red. Lorcan wondered how he would get his face back to a normal colour in time for his walk out into the Wizengamot.

"So, Bones, you're first aren't you?" Nott asked the girl, who nodded meekly in response before turning to look at the large analogue clock that was ticking away on the wall behind them. Nott grinned, "Nervous?"

She shook her head, opened her mouth to speak but before she could get any words out, a loud ringing gong echoed throughout the room. They all held their breath as a booming male voice sounded.

"The Chamber of The Wizengamot calls Susan Bones, Heir Apparent to House Bones."

Susan's face lost all colour and Daphne shared a sympathetic look with her before, like Lorcan had earlier, straightening her shoulders, sucking in a deep breath and striding to the double doors at the other end of the little hall. She quietly opened the doors, glanced back and smiled nervously before finally stepping out, the doors shutting slowly behind her.

Silence resounded in the room. Maybe it was because the whole thing seemed more real now. Since their birth they had been waiting for this moment, training for it. The magic had already accepted them on a familial level, but to be actually lawfully inputted as an Heir to a Most Noble and Ancient House was a whole other deal. Your official title for any announcement would be Heir to whatever House you were with and you held status over people of lesser value. It was something that most pureblood and half-blood children wished and hoped for, but once the day came it was probably the most nerve wracking thing ever.

After around five or six minutes, Blaise cleared his throat and all eyes turned to him, "Who's next?"

His question was answered before Lorcan could announce that he was by the same booming voice.

"The Chamber of The Wizengamot calls Lorcan Black, Heir Apparent to House Potter, Third in Line Heir Apparent to House Black."

The shock on their faces was the best thing he and Neville had ever seen. Wide eyes, gaping mouths and silence once again until Neville grabbed him into a quick hug before releasing him and then they clasped hands and shook once, smiled pulling at the corners of their mouths. He ignored the looks from the other Heirs, especially Malfoy's vicious glare cutting into his face like knives and sped quickly over to the doors.

He took a deep breath. This was it.

Make or break time.

He placed his hands on the handles.

Today was the day that Harry Potter died and Lorcan Black was born into the Wizarding World. Today was the day to see if they could trick not only the higher-ups of their world, but a man who had been looking for Harry Potter for a long time.

Albus Dumbledore.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed it! Don't forget to review and favourite!**

**PS: Sorry for taking so long! **

**Nothing but love, **

**MM xx**


	8. What If Houses Became One

**What If Series: The Black Prince**

**by Miss Mysteria**

**Chapter Eight**

* * *

Sirius let out a long sigh as he sank slowly into the Heir Black seat next to his grandfather.

This was important, probably the most important moment of Lorcan's childhood. This was the moment that would set how they should play out the rest of their years; what advice they should give Lorcan and Neville as they went off to Hogwarts, what friends they should and shouldn't make. How careful his son should be around Dumbledore and old Order members. He hoped that he wouldn't have to advise Lorcan against going to Mcgonagall for help as she had always been there for him and his friends throughout their years at Hogwarts, and he had seen many of students from other Houses (in the last years of his schooling he saw no Slytherin's) going into her office for help or advice. It would mean a different experience at Hogwarts if he couldn't talk to her, or Flitwick, or Pomfrey. But, Sirius reminded himself, Lorcan would not have the same experience he did. He already had his best friend in the form of Neville Longbottom, so he wouldn't be on the search for more. He wasn't dead-set on renouncing his family and becoming a Gryffindor just to make a statement that he was different than his last name suggested. He might not even be in Gryffindor; in fact, he and Remus had already decided that their boy would probably be in Slytherin or Ravenclaw. Yes, he was brave and kind, like any Lion or Badger, but he was more so sneaky and intelligent, like a Snake or an Eagle. The result of spending a night every month in the presence of Slytherin's and the elders of Slytherin's and Ravenclaw's to look up to, clearly.

At the echoing gong that signalled the beginning of the session, Sirius brought his attention back to the Chamber.

The Wizengamot Chamber, however pretentious it was, Sirius had to see that it was an incredible piece of architecture. A domed circular room deep under the Ministry of Magic meant to prove die a hint of King Arthur's famous round table. There were five tiers of rows; the upper tier was the public gallery, open to all, and was a first come first served arrangement. There were no chairs, simply just standing room which was meant to dissuade people from wanting to come, but as it was the public right to know what was going on in their world of politics and law, they had to be allowed entrance. The fourth tier was reserved for press, Ministry officials, family and retainers of the Wizengamot members with a bench provided for sitting. All camera's had to have no flash and be spelled silent, which meant that all photos taken in the Wizengamot Chamber would be still like muggle photos, as the flash was what gave them their movement. The third tier, with its chairs of silver upholstery was for the newest members of the Wizengamot and Order of Merlin recipients. The second tier was reserved for the Ancient and Noble Houses, each House having one grand seat painted in peacock blue and covered with upholstery that had the crest and colour of their Houses and next to it on the left was each Houses Heir seat, which was slightly smaller and less grand than the Head of House seat, but other than that it was no different. Each of the Houses were ordered by status and separated by a few metres of space and a shield that made sure once the Head of the House was seated, no harmful spells could be thrown. The final small lowest tier was on the floor, and held by the Chief Warlock's gold seat on the right alongside the scribe and the Wizengamot clerk who both had no voting rights. There were five similarly plain Ministry seats sat on the left, including the Minister and the Minister's Undersecretary.

As soon as the gong sounded, silence fell over the Chamber and Albus Dumbledore stood, dressed in his peacock-blue Chief Warlock robes and raised his arms, as though he was welcoming them all to another year at Hogwarts. Sirius hid a smile as he spotted disapproving frowns on many of the older Lord's and Lady's faces. Perhaps they thought he was trying to belittle them. He would not be surprised if some conversations afterwards included the phrase "Albus would do well to remember that his House does not have a seat in this Chamber".

Dumbledore cleared his throat and allowed his arms to drop to his sides slowly. "Seal the doors!" he ordered as he took his place once again on his seat. The Auror in charge of security moved quickly to the massive doors that held the only entrance and exit out of the Chamber, other than the side-Chamber that now held the Heir's waiting to be introduced.

"Seal the doors!" the Auror yelled and an even bigger hush fell over the Chamber, all tiers becoming silent as the loud thud of the doors closing resounded.

"The May Session of the Wizengamot is called to order!" Dumbledore intoned, his voice carrying over the crowds. He looked around, eyes seeming to skip over certain people, mostly the Dark family's, including Sirius', and then he spoke again. "Today marks the date of eight Heir's to Ancient and Noble House's taking their rightful place among us, we will introduce each one and they will come forward, announce themselves to us, before being sworn in by magic and becoming tied to the Wizengamot."

There was silence, anticipation building among everyone in the Chamber, before Dumbledore spoke again, "Dullard, you may begin."

The clerk of the Wizengamot, Albert Dullard, rose out of his seat, long, thin fingers holding a piece of parchment that held the names of all eight Heirs. The man's brown eyes scanned the list, as the names had been banned from any eyes before the session. When he had read it, eyes going slightly wide and flickering over to the Black and Potter seats on opposite sides of the Chamber before returning to the parchment, he cleared his throat and brought out his wand, pressing the tip to a golden button on his left. Another gong sounded, and he spoke out, his voice echoing into the silent Chamber.

"The Chamber of The Wizengamot calls Susan Bones, Heir Apparent to House Bones."

Most eyes either travelled down to look at the doors that held the entrance to the side-Chamber where Susan Bones would come out or to a slightly nervous looking Amelia Bones in her seta. The fact that Amelia Bones was nervous spoke volumes as she was known, as Head Auror now that Moody had retired and as rumoured new Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement once Bartemius Crouch retired to advisory standard of the job as was custom, she was known for level-headedness. This was important for every House gaining a new Heir, as it would be the first impression of the new generation.

After a few seconds of silence, the doors to the side-Chamber opened, and out walked Susan Bones. She was short, had flaming red hair and blue eyes. She wore dark blue robes and smart shoes donned with the crest of her House. Sirius felt for the girl as she walked out, clearly nervous. He himself had had to walk out when he had been introduced, having never been introduced as a child as his father, Orion Black, had been Arcturus' Heir until he had died. It was nerve-wracking, seeing all the eyes upon you. And he had done it as an adult.

Susan walked to the sigil in the middle of the floor and clasped her shaking hands over her stomach. She took a deep breath and held her head higher, straightening her shoulders. She waited for a moment, before Dullard nodded to her, giving her permission to speak. "I am Susan Bones, Heir to the A-Ancient and Noble House of Bones, requesting admittance to the House of the W-Wizengamot."

Dullard, eyes speaking sympathy his words could not, spoke, "Will you, Susan Bones, seek to aid the House of the Wizengamot with pride, fortitude and quickness?"

"I w-will."

"Will you, Susan Bones," Dullard raised his wand, flourishing it gently so that two cords of light came down from it and latched onto Susan's Heir ring; one dark blue, the colour of her House, and one light blue, the colour of the Wizengamot, "seek to represent the House of the Wizengamot and the Ancient and Noble House of Bones with dignity, respect and honour?"

"I will."

"Finally, do you, Susan Bones, accept responsibility as Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Bones, accepting the title and duties that come with it?"

"I d-do." she nodded, voice shaking as the two cords turned into sparks of light blue and dark blue, mixing together to become one and falling to the ground. There was a smattering of applause, before Dumbledore held up his hand. He stood, smiled at the girl, causing her to smile back with blush on her cheeks.

"Welcome to the Wizengamot, Heir Susan Bones of the Ancient and Noble House of Bones. Please take your seat." He gestured with an aged hand towards where Amelia Bones was smiling brightly with pride and relief and Susan immediately began walking quickly towards her Aunt. The girl, having walked up all the stairs, collapsed into the seat and let out a long sigh. It was unprofessional for her to have practically ran up the stairs and to present herself in such a way, but some Houses didn't install that into their children. The Black family did, however, and Sirius straightened in his seat, Arcturus doing the same alongside him. This was it.

Dullard cleared his throat again. He pressed the tip of his wand to the golden button, and spoke out into the silence. Sirius' stomach began to squirm.

"The Chamber of The Wizengamot calls Lorcan Black, Heir Apparent to House P-Potter, Third in Line Heir Apparent to House Black."

There was a rush of whispers and mutterings. The calling of a new Heir Potter could only mean one thing, that Gringotts and the House magic itself had pronounced Harry Potter as dead, latching itself to the closest relative. Sirius both relished Dumbledore's pale face and feared it, for the curiosity that was burning in his blue eyes was not calming.

They waited in the Chamber for around one minute in silence, the occasional whisper sounding, before the doors creaked open to reveal his son. It was obvious that he was a Black, if anyone could have any doubts. He was tall for his age, long and thin, graceful. He had the pale complexion and jet-black hair. There were obvious differences, however. The boy had a slight curl to his hair, giving it almost a lift, but not enough to make it untidy or unkempt, and most startling of all was his bright green eyes, so opposing to the grey of the Black's.

Lorcan moved to the sigil on the floor, clasped his hands behind his back and all the while looked as calm as anything. There was a tense silence, someone coughed awkwardly, before Dullard snapped himself out of it and cleared his throat nervously. Sirius couldn't help but smirk at his son's raised eyebrow. Yes, defiantly a Slytherin or Ravenclaw.

Dullard gestured to him to begin as was custom.

"I am Lorcan Black, Heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Potter, Third in Line for the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, requesting admittance to the House of the Wizengamot." There was no stutter in his voice, no tremble. He was acting the part of the perfect pureblood. So far, Sirius couldnt have been prouder and if he also wasn't playing the part of a pureblood Heir, he would be beaming and waving to his son like a proud parent watching their child play Quidditch. Sirius eyed Arcturus out of the corner of hsi eyes to see the man staring straight down at his great-grandson, pride in his eyes but the rest of him like statue, waiting.

He looked back down in time for Dullard to begin his oath.

"Will you, Lorcan Black, seek to aid the House of the Wizengamot with pride, fortitude and quickness?"

"I will." Lorcan's smooth answer contrasted with Susan's nervous one and in her seat she flushed, but no one was looking at her, all eyes were locked onto the Black and Potter Heir taking his oath.

"Will you, Lorcan Black," Dullard seemed to have gained his confidence again and raised his wand smoothly, flourishing once again so that four cords of light came down from it and latched onto Lorcan's Heir ring's. Two were the normal, expected light blue, and the other two were red and silver, the colours of the Black and Potter Houses, "seek to represent the House of the Wizengamot and the Ancient and Noble Houses of Black and Potter with dignity, respect and honour?"

"I will."

"Finally, do you, Lorcan Black, accept responsibility as Heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Potter and Third in Line to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, accepting the title and duties that come with it?"

"I do." The two cords turned into sparks of light blue interspersed with the red and silver, becoming one before falling to the ground. There was no applause for Lorcan Black, unsurprisingly people were still shocked. They wanted to know how the Black's had kept a _child _quiet all these years and how he was related closely enough to the Potter's for the family magic to claim him? Dumbledore cleared his throat and Sirius watched as the man seemed to struggle with himself to smile, which came out more of a grimace.

"Welcome to the Wizengamot, Heir Lorcan Black of the Most Noble and Ancient House of," there was a pause, unmistakeable to Sirius and Arcturus, but to anyone else nothing out of the ordinary, "Potter, and Third in Line to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black. Please take your seat."

* * *

Lorcan inwardly breathed a sigh of relief, keeping his mask on outside as he nodded in thanks twice, to both the clerk and the Warlock, and turned towards the stairs. It took more concentration than he would have thought to walk gracefully along the Chamber's floor and up the stairs, but he managed it. He was very grateful now for the hours of walking lessons and lessons on how to hold himself. It would have been beyond embarrassing to trip or run. He strode up the stairs towards the seats that belonged to the Most Noble and Ancient members. He nodded in thanks to individual members who nodded to him in welcome, they were mostly Lord Nott, who he recognised as he looked like his son, and Lady Zabini. Dark family's, no doubt only doing so as his last name was Black and his grandfather was watching. As he passed Augusta, she smiled slightly at him and inclined her head and he sent her a small smile back.

As he walked down the row, silence in the hall with his footsteps echoing on the marble floor, he tried to prepare himself to sit in the Heir Potter Seat for the first time. The last person who had sat there had been his biological father, James Potter, and the person before had been his biological grandfather, and now it would be his turn. He would sit in that seat and represent the Most Noble and Ancient House of Potter like his ancestors had - it felt like a massive responsibility to put on seven year old.

When he eventually reached the seat, Joe Follen stood and shook his hand before gesturing for him to sit first. Lorcan smiled gratefully at the sign of respect, before slowly lowering himself into the throne-like chair that sat below the Most Noble and Ancient House of Potter's Coat of Arms. Follen sat down next to him and the transparent shield went back up immediately. It was surprisingly comfortable, the seat, and at the way that his dad had described sitting in the Heir Black seat was the "most bloody uncomfortable experience of my life", he swallowed a grin a the idea that his ancestors had thought to put a cushioning charm on the char.

He let out a deep sigh as the clerk finally moved onto the next Heir and glanced towards his dad and grandfather. He realised that they were watching him, proudly. His grandfather gave him an approving nod and Sirius winked at him before both moving their attention to the front as Neville's name was called. Lorcan watched as Neville came out, the same way that he had and looked on with happiness at how his friend carried himself; he was confident and in every way was the Heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Longbottom. Neville's went much more smoothly than his own, and in what felt like no time at all, Neville was sat a few seats over from him in the Longbottom Heir seat, shooting him a grin.

He felt a tap on his shoulder just as Malfoy's name was called (he was delighted to see that there was still a pink tint on his cheeks), and turned to face the man next to him. He had met Joe Follen before; his dad had set up a meeting with him to let him know what was going on. He didn't know that he was Harry Potter, of course, but he did know that his mother was Lily Potter, and had been told the story that his dad, grandfather, Moony and grandmother had spun.

Follen grinned, "You did really well, by the way. I knew you were nervous about it."

Lorcan nodded, eyes still tracking Malfoy as he finished his oath, "Yeah, I was. But not as bad as some of the others. Its all over now, though."

"Don't be too sure about that. I'm not sure if your dad has told you or not, but Lord Black is going to announce an official alliance between House Black and Longbottom. House Potter and Longbottom already have one because James Potter and Frank Longbottom made one, they were the old Lord's of the Houses a few years ago, but that announcement is sure to cause some stir."

Lorcan grinned at that. An alliance meant that Augusta and Arcturus were accepting Neville's and Lorcan's friendship and extending it to their Houses; not that he didn't already know that they did accept it, but it would announce it to the world that they did, which was big. He frowned and asked, "Do the Houses of Black and Potter have an alliance?"

Follen's grin widened, and Lorcan was reminded of why James Potter no doubt chose the man. He seemed to enjoy making mischief, "Not at present. But they will today. You need a cause or a reason to create an alliance, and due to yourself and Heir Longbottom retaining a friendship, that is reason to create an alliance between House Black and Longbottom and now that the Third in Line to House Black is also the Heir to House Potter, there is reason to create an alliance there also. But, it doesn't mean that it won't cause a massive stir, even if a few probably expect it."

By the time that Lorcan was nodding, agreeing with his notion, Malfoy, Macmillan, Nott and Greengrass had been through their oaths and were sat in their seats, all four having gone smoothly and quickly. Zabini was just finishing his final question as Lorcan turned back to Follen, "Lord Black will go first won't he?"

Follen nodded, eyes following Zabini as he walked up to his Heir seat, "If Lord Abbot hasn't requested that he has notices, then yes."

Someone at the bottom, most likely the Clerk, sounded another gong not unlike the ones that had been heard in the side-Chamber and yelled out over the slight applause for Zabini, "That is end of the Heir introduction. Next order of business! House Notices Pertaining to the Wizengamot." The man's eyes moved up to Arcturus, who was preparing to get out of his seat. "The floor is ceded to Lord Black."

Heads turned to watched Arcturus get out of his seat and clasp his hands behind his back. "I have only a few notices and in the effect of time, I shall keep them brief. I am pleased to congratulate the new Heir's and welcome them into the Wizengamot."

He waited as a "hear, hear" rose out of the Dark Family's and Neutral's who supported the Black's.

"Especially, I welcome Heir Lorcan Black to the Potter Seat and wish him the best with his future endeavours." Lorcan nodded in thanks as some people who hadn't put it together, realised that Lorcan Black was the _great-grandson _of the formidable Arcturus Black. They looked at the boy in a new light; respect and only a _slight_ bit of fear. "My first order of business is to announce that the House of Black has gained an alliance with the House of Longbottom. We now stand together."

Rush of chatter followed this message, some were in shock that the Longbottom's would side with the Black's, whose family had tortured the last Lord of their House, most however were accepting this due to the change that had gone about the House of Black in the past few years. Albus Dumbledore fell into the first section, his mouth hanging open.

Augusta Longbottom stood and repeated, "The House of Longbottom recognises this notice and reiterates that the Houses of Longbottom and Black now stand together." She sat once again and allowed Arcturus to continue.

"My second order is to announce the formation of an alliance between the Houses of Black and Potter. We now stand together."

There was still some talk this time around, but no one was especially surprised as Follen stood and confirmed the alliance. Arcturus nodded once to Follen, then to Augusta, before continuing.

"My last notice is one of only a formality." Silence fell. Formality notices were not used much due to the danger of such things. They were a warning to others in the Chamber and the Wizarding World as a whole. "Due to the newly formed, but nevertheless strong, alliances between the Houses of Black, Potter and Longbottom, Heir's Lorcan Black and Neville Longbottom are under the House of Black's protection and have been sworn in and accepted as sons of House Black. Anyone who wishes or commits unchangeable harm upon them have declared themselves enemies of House Black, and therefore Potter and Longbottom." There was a stunned silence. No one had declared a formality in _decades,_ not at least so publicly. Sirius had known of his grandfather's wish to announce it, so had Augusta, but had made him change the statement from "commits harm" to "commits _unchangeable _harm" as he knew all too well the types of trouble boys their age could get into.

Dullard cleared his throat nervously in the resounding quiet, "Thank you, Lord Black. You may take your seat." Arcturus nodded and lowered himself into his seat.

Next on the agenda were announcements from other Houses; House of Burke was announcing the death of Julian Burke, the last Lord and there was a two minutes silence in respect for the man; House of Cedar were announcing the birth of a new Heir; the House of Goldstein were announcing an alliance with the House of Macmillan (smart, due to the fact that both sons would be going to Hogwarts at the same time and were both light families, but the Smith Heir would be introduced in the next session due to being not quite seven just yet).

And then, finally it was the Potter notices. Dullard the Clerk invited Follen to step forward, and he did.

"I know we all want to get home, so I'll try be fast." A few laughs sounded and Follen grinned. "First notice is that the House of Potter recognises the introduction of a new Heir, Lorcan Black. Welcome, Heir Potter." Lorcan inclined his head. But before Follen could continue, Dumbledore's voice called out.

"One moment, Mister Follen," Dumbledore declared, "Surely there is a concern that this will ultimately lead ot the extinction of the House of Potter?"

Follen narrowed his eyes, but not so much that people could tell other than Lorcan, who was right next to him, "I am afraid I do not understand your enquiry, Chief Warlock."

"What I mean to say is, once Lorcan Black takes up the mantle of Lord Potter, and once...well, once the current Lord Black _steps_ _down_ as well as his Heir after he too becomes Lord Black, Lorcan Black would then become Lord Black-Potter."

"Ah, I see. On his fifteenth birthday, Heir Potter will become Lord Potter, he will take this seat as it is rightfully his. Once Lord Black, and his Heir, Sirius Black, have either passed on or stepped down, Lorcan Black would become Lord Black-Potter. He has agreed at this time that the lines will have different Heirs on the assumption that they are accepted by blood and magic. The Black line is paternal, so if Lorcan Black were to have a boy and a girl, the boy would have the last name of Black, and the girl of Potter, due to it being non-permitted House."

Dumbledore seemed to sag, but nevertheless bit out a "Very well" and Dullard gestured for Follen to continue.

"The second is to reiterate that the Houses of Potter and Black now stand together in their alliance." The air around Follen grew solemn, "Unfortunately, this notice must be made. The House of Potter announces the death of Harry James Potter, may he rest in peace."

"May he rest in peace." was murmured by the entire Chamber, something that made Lorcan uneasy, but he ignored it and bowed his head, repeating the phrase. His head snapped back up, however, when Dumbledore spoke up.

"Sorry to interrupt once again, Mister Follen, however I must ask where you received your death notice from?" some people in the back of the Chamber, in the public stand mostly, were outraged at the suggestion that the House of Potter would lie about Harry Potter's death. Dullard banged a gavel next to him and brought back quiet, or close to it.

Follen smiled, though he did show more teeth than necessary. Lorcan in that moment decided that he rather liked Follen. "Gringotts sent a notice through to myself and Heir Sirius Black, due to his stance as Godfather. The family magic, having recognised Lorcan Black as the new Heir has also clearly agreed that Harry Potter is no longer with us. If you wish to dispute this, Chief Warlock, then you may go to Gringotts and request a death certificate and proof that a member of House Potter has died?"

There were some laughs at the idea of Dumbledore, or anyone, doing such a thing, as it would be seen as rude and an insult to House Potter. Dumbledore, abashed, merely shook his head and gestured for Follen to continue.

"My final notice, although I have already mentioned it, is to announce that on his fifteenth birthday, Heir Potter will take up the mantle of Lord Potter, however wishes at present time for myself to continue as proxy until such a time that he is ready to commit to such a role. That is all, thank you."

Dullard rose from his seat, "That was the final notice for today's session. Thank you all, see you in a few months."

Dumbledore stood, "Open the doors!" and the phrase was repeated by the Auror in charge once again and the doors were opened creakily. Almost at once the Chamber burst into noise, several glances and pointing being thrown Lorcan's way. He shrugged it off, deciding that now he was out in the open, he may as well get used to it very quickly.

He met eyes with his dad, said goodbye to Follen and walked over to the Black seat.

Sirius smiled at him. "Ready to go, Lorcan?"

He smiled back.


	9. What If Friendships Were Formed

**What If Series: The Black Prince**

**by Miss Mysteria**

**Chapter Nine**

* * *

"Sirius, my boy, I wonder if I could have a word?" Sirius winced and craned his neck to see Arcturus conversing with Lord Nott and his Heir who was staring at the floor nervously, no doubt cowed by the infamous Lord Black's presence. He clamped the hand that was already on Lorcan's shoulder tighter and spun to face Dumbledore, who was stood at the bottom of the stairs in the Wizengamot Chamber.

He inclined his head, pulling the emotionless mask over his face and knowing automatically that his son was doing the same. "Of course, Headmaster." Dumbledore looked slightly put out over the formal term, but nevertheless soldiered on. His blue eyes travelled down to meet with Lorcan's startling green before narrowing and moving quickly back up to Sirius'. Sirius tightened his grip once again.

Dumbledore plastered on a smile so bright Sirius thought he might have to squint. "Very nice to see you, my boy. Very nice. How long has it been now?"

"About six years. My first Wizengamot session."

"Ah, yes. I remember it like it was yesterday. I recall that it went very similar to your...son's?"

Sirius nodded and pushed Lorcan forward ever-so-slightly, but still held onto his shoulder. A fact that did not go unnoticed by Dumbledore or Lorcan.

Lorcan held out his hand, "Lorcan Black, Headmaster Dumbledore. Pleasure to meet you."

Dumbledore slipped his aged hand into the younger one, smile turning condescending and voice lower, "And yourself, Lorcan," He either didn't notice both Black's wince or chose to ignore it, "I must say, it was quite the feat of your father to keep your existence quiet for so many years. No doubt you were bored at home...?"

It was obvious what the man was doing, or obvious to them, both having been trained from a young age to recognise manipulation and sly hints. Lorcan took his hand back and placed it in his pocket so that the man wouldn't take it again. "Not at all, _Headmaster_. I enjoy the solitude of library's, especially the ones that the Black family hold. In addition, I-" he made a small pause, unnoticeable to anyone but his dad, who squeezed his shoulder in permission, "-met Neville Longbottom when I was younger and frequently spend time with my grandparents at Black Manor and regularly spend time with Neville and his grandmother, Lady Longbottom, at Longbottom Manor."

"Interesting, how-"

"Yes, it is all very interesting. Lorcan is an intelligent young man, as is Heir Longbottom, which is why they spend copious amounts of time together so, I assure you, _Chief Warlock, _that my grandson is not at all _bored, as you say, _with his day-to-day life." Sirius almost sagged in relief as his grandfather's voice broke into the conversation, or interrogation. He turned and was surprised to see Lord Nott at his right shoulder and his Heir appearing less nervous than before. Perhaps it was because he was stood next to Lorcan and not Arcturus. Or perhaps it was because Arcturus' attention was now on something else. "Also, he has recently become friendly with Theodore-" Sirius noted the boy's flinch, "-Nott, here, if you needed to be aware of all _my_ _great-grandson's_ friendships."

Dumbledore's jaw hung for a moment, before clutching together swiftly. He nodded once, to Lorcan and Sirius. "Not at all, Lord Black, I was merely curious about the boy. After all, none of us had heard of him before."

Lord Nott's smooth monotone cut in before anyone else could, eager to get a word in, "Strictly speaking, Chief Warlock, that is incorrect. After all, I had been aware of Sirius and Remus having a son." Sirius frowned slightly at the comfortable use of his and Remus' first names, but hid it well.

"Had you?" Dumbledore looked surprised, "I was not aware you and Sirius were close, Lord Nott." Sirius noted the use of Nott's full title and felt more distaste for Dumbledore's strict use of his first name.

Lord Nott chuckled, "Well, we were in the same year at Hogwarts, in different Houses sure, but in the same year. Remus used to tutor me in Defense Against the Dark arts."

Sirius tried his hardest to conceal his surprise at this revelation, but he knew from Lorcan's swift elbow in his side that he wasn't quite as successful as he had hoped. He cleared his throat, "Yes, myself and Thraxis met countless times on the Quidditch Pitch, Headmaster. Both Beaters but on separate teams. I wasn't aware that Remus had tutored you, however."

Nott nodded, "I struggled in Defense admittedly. I paid him back in due course, with the chocolate apparel sent most Christmas'," a slight mischievous smirk appeared on his face, "and I do recall playing head-to-head against you, Sirius. I remember winning most, if not all games."

"Completely untrue." Sirius scoffed and Nott laughed lightly as Lorcan rolled his eyes towards Theodore, who gave a tentative smile back. Dumbledore, seemingly uncomfortable now that the chance to interrogate Sirius and Lorcan had passed quickly, sent the five of them a tight smile and gestured towards the door, where Cornelius Fudge was waiting for him, hopping from foot to foot impatiently. Sirius' eyebrows drew together at the action; was this really the man set to take over from Bagnold when she retired in a few years? It seemed that way from what the papers had been presenting but Fudge, to Sirius, was a ridiculously pompous, nervous man with a penchant for getting Albus Dumbledore's approval on everything he did. That was not something he, nor the wizarding community of Britain, needed.

"I am afraid that Cornelius is in need of me," The man nodded once to Sirius, Arcturus and Thraxis, before smiling condescendingly at the two seven-year-olds, who tried their hardest not to look put-off by it, and then they watched as he strode off, bright robes flaring out behind him. Sirius finally removed his tight grip of Lorcan's shoulder and the boy moved closer to Theodore, who now that Dumbledore was gone, looked slightly nerve-wracked again. Were they really that intimidating?

Nott huffed as Sirius rolled his shoulders next to him, "What a ridiculous man."

"I agree. He has a tendency to stick his crooked nose into everyone's business where it is not wanted." Arcturus spared Lorcan and Theodore a glance as they snickered. "In fact, I have heard that he tried to force Arthur Weasley to give _him _the Weasley seat and get his wife, who was previously a Prewett, to give him the _Prewett seat._"

Sirius' eyebrows shot up, "Arthur refused?"

Arcturus nodded assuredly, "Of course. The man has no other interests apart from tinkering with muggle toys."

"An interesting hobby." Nott commented, watching their reactions carefully. Sirius understood it for what it was and subtly placed his hand between Lorcan's shoulder blades, pushing him gently towards where Neville was waiting with the Zabini and Bones Heir's. Augusta was conversing with Lord Greengrass not far off, but Sirius noticed that she was keeping a keen eye on her grandson. Lorcan took the hint and took hold of Theodore's forearm, nodding once to Arcturus and Lord Nott in parting, "Dad, we're just going to talk to Neville, okay?"

Sirius nodded and allowed the corner of his mouth to curl up as his son set off with the Nott boy by his side. All three men watched them until they were met with smiles by the three Heir's and were both drawn into conversation. He clasped his hands behind his back. "I think so. Who knows what muggle contraptions will take to magic? Vehicles, perhaps. Handguns and other weaponry."

"Yes, yes, the work has intriguing possibilities and unknown outcomes that could change certain things about travel and security etcetera, however this can be debated and discussed at another time, back to the matter at hand." Sirius and Thraxis nodded, conceding the point as Arcturus continued. "Dumbledore is trying, rather desperately, to get a seat on the Wizengamot Council. It suggests that he believes the he will not be Chief Warlock for much longer and wants to keep himself in this Chamber."

Sirius shrugged, "Not surprising. The old families have been trying to get him out for years. I can't count the number of times that I've seen old Abraxas Malfoy accuse him of bias and prejudice."

Nott hummed, "True, but Lord Malfoy only has so much power and with his son, Lucius, being suspected by many Houses, Lord's and Lady's of being in cahoots with the Dark Lord, it has lessened his sway on the minds in this room."

"Yes, but he is not the only one who has been suspected to be in cahoots, is he, Thraxis?" Arcturus' voice hardened and Nott's cheeks tinged pink. Sirius stood and watched from the corner of his eye as he pretended to watch Lorcan wave off the Bones Heir to where Amelia Bones was waiting for her, leaving him with Theodore, the Zabini Heir and Neville. Augusta had moved on to talking with a woman who Sirius couldn't see the face of.

"Suspicion will always be in the minds of the weak and easily led, Lord Black." Sirius narrowed his eyes at the slight towards his grandfather, and himself, and being the Gryffindor he was, couldn't help but put his two cents in.

Without bothering to look at Nott, he said with not a small amount of bite to his tone, "The weak and easily led seem to be characteristics of those who are being suspected and investigated, Lord Nott, rather than those who suspect them. After all, if a well-respected and well-educated wizard was to follow one as clearly deranged at the _Dark Lord _was, then perhaps the affiliation with being weak and impressionable would be better suited to them, instead of those who seek to imprison them and make them see justice for their heinous crimes."

Silence followed this. Sirius focused hard on watching his son and company talk with each other by the door to the Chamber instead of meeting the eyes next to him, which he could feel on his face. With a straight-back and commanding tone, Sirius had hoped he had embodied Arcturus and, for the first time, his father, who was known infamously for his cutting words. It was clear that he had somehow made an impression upon both men beside him, who after being silent for a few moments, cleared their throats.

Nott spoke first, "Yes, well, quite. I am afraid I have to cut this...conversation short. My son and I need to get back to our home." He nodded once to Arcturus, who deigned to nod back slightly, and then to Sirius, if hesitantly. Sirius nodded back fiercely. "Give my regards to Remus."

Sirius hummed noncommittally as Nott stepped away from them and strode over to his son, who looked up and seemed to sink inside himself. He said goodbyes to the others and allowed his father to drag him from the Chamber. Sirius reminded himself to keep an eye on the Nott boy and his father.

"You reminded me of your father then."

Arcturus' voice dragged him out of conversation with himself and Sirius smiled sheepishly. "I did try to embody him slightly. I heard he was good with making rude and insulting things sound nice-ish."

Arcturus nodded and began to slowly walk towards the Heir's, where Zabini was saying goodbyes and Augusta was finally finishing up her talk with the unknown woman. "He was. Although do try not to take on his mantle too much, Sirius. I rather prefer having _you_ by my side, over him."

"Not surprising."

Arcturus smirked at him, "No. I cannot imagine it is."

When they finally reached the other side of the Chamber, it was just Lorcan and Neville left of the group of Heirs and they were both chattering away excitedly. When they noticed Sirius, Arcturus and Augusta, who joined them just as they reached them, they started jabbering away.

"We just met Blaise Zabini and Susan Bones and-"

Arcturus raised a brow as he led them from the room and out into the familiar entrance hall, "I thought you would have met in the side-chamber. Before your introductions."

"You both did really well by the way. If I didn't know you I'd suspect that you were posh tossers like the rest." Sirius smiled proudly at them both and ruffled their hair as they laughed through objections about their hair and the fact that they looked like 'posh tossers'.

Augusta sniffed and pointed her nose down at Sirius in disapproval, "You seem to have forgotten that once you yourself were a," her nose wrinkled in distaste, "_posh tosser._"

"Nope," Sirius gave her a grin, as he flung his arms around the shoulders of the two boys, "I was never, not _once_, a pureblood halfwit-with-half-a-brain. Isn't that right, grandfather?

"Correct. You were indeed a Gryffindor miscreant with mud-muggleborn tendencies from the very beginning."

Sirius shot him a grateful look at the word-change, but ignored it otherwise. Lorcan jumped into the conversation, "Of course you were a _Gryffindor,"_ he quickly looked to his grandfather and then back again, "_mis-cre-ant, _Dad. You still are one!"

"Hilarious. Really, really funny." said Sirius, deadpan. Lorcan rolled his eyes and looped his arm around his Dad's back. Neville did the same on the other side as he answered Arcturus' inquiry.

"We _did _meet them in the side-chamber. But only names and Houses, really. We didn't have time for anything else because Malfoy had started on us-"

"Malfoy?" Augusta cut in sharply, "What did he say?"

Lorcan shrugged, "Just the expected 'who are you' intimidation thing. Thinks he's king of the world already."

Sirius removed his arms from the boys' shoulders as they stepped into the first empty elevator that opened to them. No one who was waiting for one seemed to want to get in with them, not really surprising, and it was welcomed. "Of course he does. He's a Malfoy and has had Narcissa and Lucius _teaching_ him. Level Eight, Apparation, Floo and Travel Centre, Main Hall." He waved his wand quickly to close the lift doors and placed a hand on Lorcan's shoulder as the lift clattered up to the floor he had requested.

"I doubt that Lucius has much to do with the boy, Sirius." Arcturus said as he examined the golden grates of the elevator and the floor levels that flashed passed, "Narcissa and no doubt the house-elves are the ones who do most of the care."

Sirius sniffed in an excellent repetition of Augusta's earlier one, nose wrinkling in the same way, "Doesn't matter, either way he'll be a stuck up prat."

Lorcan nodded, and Neville agreed, "That's probably the way he's going to be when we get to Hogwarts."

"You'll just have to show him who's boss, won't you?" Sirius grinned proudly and the two boys smirked back as Arcturus and Augusta shared an eye roll. They were going to have to get used to the fact that Lorcan and Neville were going to get into trouble at Hogwarts no matter what Houses they were placed in (although there was a running bet between the adults where they were both going to go; Sirius thought Lorcan in Ravenclaw-though he hoped for Gryffindor-and Neville for Ravenclaw too, Remus had Lorcan for Slytherin and Neville for Gryffindor, Melania had Neville for Hufflepuff-a testament to her old House loyalty- and Lorcan for Slytherin, Augusta had Neville for Gryffindor and Lorcan for Ravenclaw and Arcturus had both boys for Slytherin as he had seen the way that they both were together, sly and sneaky). Both Lorcan and Neville were secretly hoping for the same House, they didn't really mind which as they thought all four had good values, so that they could be in all of the same classes and dorm.

The lift shuddered to a holt and Sirius saw Arcturus frown out of the corner of his eye and straightened up instantly. "What is it?"

Arcturus shook his head and chose not to answer, which immediately put them on guard; Sirius gripped Lorcan's shoulder tighter and Augusta came behind Neville and did the same. Arcturus stood in front of them all and when the doors finally clattered opened, Sirius understood.

They were almost immediately blinded by flashing lights from cameras and deafened by shouts and screeches coming from the press and other people who had come up from the public gallery and had witnessed the Heir Introductions and entire Wizengamot Session.

In the middle of the crowd Sirius spotted Rita Skeeter smirking and licking her lips as she spotted his son, her Quick-Quotes Quill scribbling away beside her in mid-air and an animalistic growl ripped up from his throat not unlike the one that he usually gave when in his animagus form. Lorcan nudged him in his side to snap him out of it and in turn Sirius tightened his grasp on his shoulder protectively and followed Arcturus after Neville and Augusta in a single file line as the Black Lord parted his way through the crowd.

All his life Lorcan had wondered at the power he would wield as Lord Black-Potter and the reactions of the press and wizarding world. But he didn't ever imagine it would be this.

He wondered how they would react if they knew he was also Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World and unwittingly his mouth curled into a smirk. He looked up at his dad and found that Sirius was looking down at him, a slight amused smile donning his features and that told him that he was thinking the same.

His eye caught a flash of platinum blonde and he focused in on the Malfoy family in the corner of the Main Hall which he could see through a gap of journalists. His smirk turned into a wide smile and he caught the increase in flashes and snapping of pictures with amusement as Draco Malfoy scowled and sneered at him from the corner.

Slytherin. He decided that Slytherin was the House that Draco Malfoy would be in. His reasoning was because green looked like a rather good colour on him.

Green with jealousy, that is.


	10. What If Secrets Were Revealed

**What If Series: The Black Prince**

**by Miss Mysteria**

**Chapter Ten**

* * *

_A/N: Hey guys, just thought that I'd add this in here as some people were confused. Lorcan and Neville, at this point in the story, are seven years-old. They've just finished the Heir introductions which have to be done once the Heirs are seven so then by the time they hit seventeen and are actually adults, their magic has had ten years to accept the House magic if it had not done so already and also gets the Heirs ready for what Wizengamot sessions are like._

_Keep sharing kindness and love to one another in this time where we've all got NOTHING TO DO. But I'm fine, I am. Just completely bored out of my mind. But since I'm bored out of my mind, I figure I might as well get some of these chapters out there for you guys to read._

_Love ya! _💗

* * *

"So the press has taken an interest."

The latest Daily Prophet newspaper was thrown into the middle of the dining table and the ball of light that had been conjured as the last sliver of daylight went out flickered slightly when the movement made the air around it shift. In the very centre of the page was a large black and white photograph that showed Sirius, cutting a menacing figure in his Heir Black robes and sneering expression, with a strong hand on his son's shoulder weaving them through the crowd. Lorcan was smirking ever-so-slightly in a way held an all to much House Black demeanour. The title sprung up at the top in huge bold block letters read;

**LORCAN BLACK: EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW**

Sirius sighed into his hands, his elbows resting on the wooden table. "We always knew that they would. I just didn't expect it at this magnitude." He was sat down, slumped in one of the mahogany dining chairs opposite his grandfather. Arcturus was sat straight-backed, as per-usual, with a tumbler of whiskey in his hand, half drained. He always had preferred the muggle stuff. Sirius eyed him through one of the gaps between his fingers as he took a long drink, "I suspect you knew that it would be like this."

Arcturus would have shrugged if he was not the man he was. He twirled the glass in a minute gesture and they sat in silence until he deigned to speak.

"I suppose I had an inkling, yes."

"And you didn't think to share with the class?"

His glare caught Sirius off-guard and the Black Heir lifted his hands up in surrender and leaned back into the uncomfortable chair. "I apologise."

"You do not."

"No, I do not." he agreed and sighed heavily once again. It had been a long day; the build up of stress and nerves, the Wizengamot Heir introductions, the announcements of the Alliances, bartering with Lord Nott and Dumbledore, watching Lorcan make friends (he hoped he'd made friends), and then walking out of the lift and into the eye of the storm. Rather like a small fishing boat that had sensed some rocking among the waves and should have known better, should have turned back. But didn't and was swept up and forced into the frantic, hectic world of political and media warfare. If he wasn't careful he would drown, he knew that.

His hands rubbed his face furiously as his eyes burned with tiredness. He was sure that they were bloodshot, having stayed awake too long, having stretched himself too thin. But this was not the first, nor would it be the last of the late nights that he would have to pull in order to keep everything afloat and okay. He could handle this, he could, Sirius knew that he could. If you can duel three Death Eaters at once and get away unscathed you can _surely_ control some measly journalists and the public information.

But _Merlin _did he wish Remus was here. His partner had waited until he, Arcturus and Lorcan had gotten back to the Manor and had made sure everything had gone as smoothly as it could have before giving all of them, bar Arcturus, a kiss and hug and taking an international portkey to Bulgaria, where he was working as an International Translator for the British and Bulgarian Ministers. He would be gone for a week and a half, if not longer.

Remus, like his granfather-in-law, was practically a savant at everything and anything he put his mind to. In two weeks he had read all of the Black Library's books on the Wizengamot and had begun to teach Sirius in a way that Arcturus could not about what he would need to do for _his own _introduction to the Wizengamot and then Lorcan's introduction. In a month he had taught himself rudimentary Spanish well enough to be able to converse with a business associate of the Head of the Department of Magical Transportation, who had requested the highly recommended Translator.

And because of this unwavering ability to master anything he put his mind to Remus was probably the best person to talk to about this.

Sure, Arcturus was the overlord of manipulating the public into believing a tale that had been spun out of nothing, the sovereign leader of making grand speeches and gestures to put the light on something just as shiny and new to make the magpies-turned-journalists rush towards it, practically salivating at the mouth and ignore the matter at hand.

But _Remus; _Remus would make it believable to even the most notorious cynics such as Albus Dumbledore or the old pureblood crowd. He would batt his eyelashes and run some sob story that he had researched and learnt down to a tee about how Lorcan was shy, or how he preferred to not be talked about because he felt like he was taking away from the more _important issues, _or how Prongs _definitely _wasn't_ breaking into the broom cupboard this very second, Madam Hooch, no, he was helping a third year with their Transfiguration homework, like the good sixth year he was, _or how _Sirius couldn't have _possibly_ snuck into the Slytherin Common Room and painted the walls red, Professor, he was with me helping Peter fix his twisted ankle. You see, he had been pushed down the stairs- what? Oh no, it doesn't really matter who by- no, really Professor, I'd rather not get anyone into any trouble..._

Remus would be a big help, a perfect solution. But Remus wasn't here. And Sirius was trying not to think of the golden amber glow of Remus' eyes as Moony desperately pushed and attempted to come out and rip a certain blonde-haired, red-lipped, Quick-Quotes Quill using, Daily Prophet journalist to shreds as he read the newspaper wherever he was in Bulgaria. He shook his head and the image of Moony, half transformed and standing over Rita Skeeter's screeching body dissipated into nothing.

Sirius looked up from where his grey eyes had been boring into the table to find Arcturus' gaze already on him. His glass was on the table, empty, and his fingers were steepled together as he rested his aged chin on the top of them. The paper and table that laid between them acted like some sort of barrier and prevented Sirius from pushing himself out of his chair and throwing himself at his grandfather, demanding why he hadn't warned him when he had already known what sort of drama this would cause.

Arcturus' eyebrows lifted marginally before falling back into place. Sirius watched as he wafted a hand over his glass and the tumbler multiplied into two. An orange-brown liquid began to fill up from the bottom of the glasses out of thin air and when it reached the halfway point, Arcturus nudged the one closest to Sirius in his direction, simultaneously taking the one he had been drinking from before for himself. Sirius picked up the glass and wrapped both hands around it, feeling the coolness and letting it envelope him before taking a sip. He grimaced and put it down straight away; he much preferred Firewhiskey to the muggle version. Arcturus didn't notice, too concerned with his own glass to think about Sirius'.

The silence again fell over them like a blanket. It wasn't awkward but it wasn't comforting either. Sirius did not want to break it in fear of shattering any idea or plot that was forming in his grandfathers mind. Eventually it was Arcturus who spoke into the eery echo of the empty dining room.

"I am...surprised at the consternation that the attention Lorcan has received has given you. I rather thought that you would be aware of his impact on society."

He spoke the words in a slow monotone, giving away his own fatigue and perhaps his unwillingness to anger Sirius. Sirius let his shoulders sag and leaned his forearms on the table, gently pushing the glass of whiskey away from the edge so that he could rest his arms there instead. "I understand the impact and the persuasion that Ancient Houses have on the public and on the Wizengamot. I _get _that it is an unknowable big deal that Lorcan has both the Potter and Black bloodlines and will be Lord Black-Potter at some point in his life. What I _wasn't_ expecting was to have to _fight_ my way out of the Ministry Atrium because a shitload of journalists and random people wanted a _picture_ _of_ _my son._"

"Sirius." Sirius looked up and met his grandfathers eyes, "I understand why you are upset. The protectiveness over Lorcan is something that all of us in this family share. But throughout his life as Lorcan Black, just as it would have been if he were still Harry Potter, he will be shrouded in the spotlight."

Sirius sighed and dropped his forehead down onto his arms. "I just wanted him to have a normal childhood."

"And he has. He has spent seven years in a calm and tranquil environment, surrounded by safety and allies. It is time, just as it was for us when we were his age, for him to step up and take his place as Heir Potter and a child of House Black in this world."

"Seven years is _not _a childhood, grandfather. _Merlin_," Sirius suddenly stood from his seat, his chair making a screech as it protested against being scraped across the floor. Other than allowing his eyes to follow the movement, Arcturus didn't move a muscle. Sirius began to pace up and down, walking to the end of the table and back to his seat before repeating it, gesturing the whole time, "A _childhood_, not that I would know, is playing with toys and hanging out with friends and riding brooms and being able to walk _up and down Diagon or Hogsmeade or Appleby Market without being _hounded _by press! _Without having to look over your shoulder every second because you feel like you're being watched. A _childhood _isn't seven _fucking _years. A childhood is from," Sirius stopped in front of his grandfather, the table still as a barrier between them, and held his hands apart from one another. He gestured heavily with one, "when you are born to," he moved the other wildly, attracting Arcturus' attention to it, "when you graduate Hogwarts, or Beauxbatons, or Ilvermorny or wherever you go to school. A childhood, a _safe childhood_, is one that lasts until you _need your guardian. _No one,_ not one child in this whole shitting world, _muggle, halfblood, pureblood or creature, should have to stop living a carefree youth just because some journalists and _nosy ass_ people cannot keep their noses out of business that isn't their own!" He stopped just as suddenly as he had stood from his chair. His heavy breathing almost echoed in the silence of the room. He ran his hands through his hair tiredly and sighed strongly. He leaned froward and rested his forearms onto the back of the chair. He let the top of his head fall into his hands. "I had to go through that. I had to watch as my name, my brothers name, my cousins names, my parents and grandparents and aunts names were plastered all over magazines left and right. I had to watch and could do nothing as titles were printed like 'Black Sheep of the Black Family' and 'Black Defects from Heinous Family' and 'Bloodtraiter Black Befriends Potter Heir' and 'Black's: As Dark as Their Name?'. I _didn't _want that for him." He flickered his fingers towards the newspaper, "but it's already started. And there is nothing I can do to make it go away. I cant control the media or the public-"

"Why not?"

A new voice seemed to vibrate through the room. Sirius' head snapped up so violently he almost got whiplash and he saw Arcturus not even bother to turn his head from where it had bowed out of the corner of his eye. Stood under the large open archway that allowed entrance into the dining room from the drawing room next door was Melania in a deep purple nightgown and slippers with her hand holding tight onto Lorcan's. His son was staring wide-eyed at him and was dressed in his pyjamas of dark green trousers and a long-sleeve shirt with little beater bats vibrating on them gently.

Sirius sighed, grey eyes locking onto green. He allowed a small smile to come on his face and he stood straight and shoved his hands into the pockets of his smart trousers. "You're supposed to be in bed."

Lorcan shrugged. He didn't let go of Melania's hand. "You're not exactly quiet, Padfoot."

"No, indeed he is not, child." Melania said and though her voice was light as she pulled him into the room, her eyes were dripping with disapproval and Sirius shied away from them and instead his eyes found his grandfather, who was still staring at the table and frowning. His grandmother had pushed Lorcan into the seat next to his grandfather and had placed herself at the end of the table. Sirius didn't appreciate the feeling that he was by himself, although as he watched Lorcan absentmindedly place his smaller hand over his grandfathers where it was rested on the table, he thought that perhaps it was what the man needed. "He gets it from his mother."

Sirius flinched and sent the the woman a glare and wasn't surprised when he was met with just as fierce a stare back. "Sit _down, _Sirius. You are not some parliamentary politician _bullying _the House of Commons."

"I think you'll find I am." he murmured, but he sat down either way. He did not want to be met with a stinging hex that he knew she was very accomplished in, as well as many other more permanent curses. The woman may have been a Hufflepuff, but there was no doubt she was vicious when she wanted or needed to be.

Melania folded her hands together and rested them upon the table. She stared out at the three Black men sat at the table with her. Lorcan was the only one who was making eye contact and he knew that she was secretly pleased, Sirius _knew_ that if he looked he would be able to see a curl at the corner of her mouth.

Hufflepuff his arse.

"Now, Sirius," she started, "tell me why you cannot control the media and public."

"Because you can't. They have their own minds and they run themselves. Sure, we could buy shares but papers like the Daily Prophet are Ministry run, so nothing can change what they write."

Melania hummed through her closed mouth. "True. But with the publications of certain articles and titles comes with the public interest. If there was no interest in dear Lorcan," she spared the boy a glance as he yawned and leaned into the hand that Arcturus had placed on top of his head. The man was looking at his wife as though he already knew where she was going. Apparently she had caught his attention, "then there would be no news about him, are we in agreement?"

Sirius nodded reluctantly, not seeing the point of this.

"But if we were to say...I don't know, _create_ some other news much more intriguing for the public than Lorcan's and our own lives than there would be no news about us and we would no longer be as much in public eye."

Lorcan cleared his throat and Sirius turned to him. He looked a bit nervous and Sirius thought it might be because this was the first time he was involved in one of their plotting sessions. "What news would be that interesting, Mimi? They...um, well, they seem to like talking about me."

His hackles raised as he saw how uncomfortable his son looked with his name being in massive letters on newspapers and media outlets across Europe. Sirius saw Arcturus press his hand further down into the black curls of Lorcan's head and the boy sunk into it. Sirius sent his grandfather a grateful look but the man didn't catch it as he was staring at the ceiling with a pensive expression.

"That is what we have to figure out," Melania said and her eyes glued onto her husband, picking up the fact like Sirius had that he was clearly forming a plan in his mind, "And it cannot be donations, speeches or gesture like such as that would be news for only a few days. We are in need of something that will last for longer than that. Perhaps a month and then by then hopefully there would be other articles that would need to be printed."

Arcturus let out a long sigh and removed his hand from Lorcan's head as he brought them together on the table. His eyes met Sirius' across the table, "When you and Remus went to Gringotts two years ago with Lorcan to retrieve his Potter Heir ring, claim the Potter seat in his name and learn of his Vaults, you came back and informed me of a Vault that should not have been there, but was."

A lightbulb went off in Sirius' mind. "The Slytherin Vault." he whispered.

Nodding, Arcturus continued, "You said that the Vault was able to be Lorcan's through right of Conquest. Only once has Lorcan been in a magical duel of any kind."

Melania's gasp drew their attention, "The Dark Lord. That night you came to us."

"Yes. One man has only ever been in a fight with our Lorcan, and one man has only ever recently claimed to be Heir of Slytherin. You also said that the Goblins informed you that his name was Lord Riddle, but that he never came to Gringotts to claim the title of Slytherin. Since that day two years ago I have researched the name 'Riddle' and recently, in the last few weeks, came up with only one man who it could refer to. Tom Riddle. He was a _halfblood_, born in the late nineteen-twenties to a near _squib_ of a woman, a _Gaunt_, and a _muggle man. _A muggle man who, according to one of the matrons of the Orphanage where he was placed as a child, either did not know of him or wanted nothing to do with him. That muggle man and his parents were murdered several years ago and Morfin Gaunt was arrested and tried for it. He died in Azkaban. I think we can all agree that it was unlikely to be Morfin Gaunt who killed those muggles. The Gaunt Heir ring was forcibly taken from Morfin's hand-"

"How do you take someone's ring?" Lorcan asked, his voice almost in a whisper. Arcturus started as though he had forgotten that his great-grandson was there. He placed an arm on the back of his chair in a way that might've been in comfort.

"Morfin was found laughing madly with a finger missing from his hand. I suspect that Tom Riddle, finding out about his Gaunt heritage_, _went to the Gaunt shack in Little Hangleton and ran into Morfin Gaunt who must have mentioned the muggle man that his sister, Merope Gaunt, married and was impregnated by. In his no doubt outrage that he was a halfblood, or the fact perhaps that his father never looked for him, he went to the Riddle's home pointed to perhaps by Morfin, and then killed his father and grandparents. He went back to the Gaunt Shack to manipulate Morfin, who due to his many stints in Azkaban for muggle assault and not appointing to the Statue of Secrecy was insane, into thinking that he had killed the muggles for which he already had a hatred for. He must have called somehow for the Aurors but not before slicing Morfin's finger off which held the Gaunt Heir ring and taking it with him as there are reports of Tom Riddle returning to Hogwarts with a Gaunt ring, proclaiming him the Heir and to everyone who saw it that he was of noble blood."

The silence that followed was deafening until Sirius spoke into it. "If we released that information to the public..."

Arcturus inclined his head, "It would place the Dark Lord's reputation in ruins due to his entire mantra being of reintroducing the old ways and having purebloods above the rest."

"It would also take _every single eye_ off of Lorcan." Melania added and the men around the table nodded in agreement, including Lorcan who looked as white as a sheet. Sirius noticed this quickly and stood from his seat.

He gestured towards his grandfather as he rounded the table towards his son's chair, "Wait until later today after we have gotten some rest and we will go over it, grandfather?"

His grandfather nodded, "I will collect the information I have surrounding Tom Riddle into a file so that it can be easily duplicated and sent to several media platforms at once."

Sirius smiled lightly at him in acknowledgment, and bade them goodnight, tugging his exhausted son by the hand and out of the room.

By the time they reached Lorcan's bedroom in the West Wing of Black Manor, Lorcan was dragging his feet, proclaiming that he wasn't tired and that he wanted to go back downstairs with his grandfather and Mimi. Sirius rolled his eyes as he tucked his hands under his armpits and lifted him up and onto the bed. He watched as Lorcan groaned but lifted the quilts of his double bed up and moved himself under them before moaning deeply into one of the pillows. Lorcan turned over onto his back and smiled tiredly up at his dad.

"Do you..do you think its gonna make big news? The whole 'Tom Riddle' thing?" Lorcan asked, slurring his words ever-so-slightly but not enough that it was incomprehensible.

Sirius nodded, turning the question over in his mind, "I think that it will cause a massive ripple effect over Britain. We don't know what or how the public will react but as long as it takes the light off of you, I'm not really sure I care."

* * *

It turns out that Sirius was rather wrong in that respect. It didn't _just_ cause a ripple effect in Magical Britain. It caused monstrous outcries and fury throughout the Magical _World_. There were papers left-right-and-centre about how the 'Dark Wizard Voldemort' fought to create laws and started a _war _against his 'own kind' in France, Germany, America, Australia, Africa, South Africa...really anywhere with a magical community that wasn't remote enough to not receive news. It was shocking to Sirius, more so at the fact that Voldemort's reign had barely _touched _France and Australia, the man hadn't _dared_ to go near Germany after the increase in their defences after Grindelwald, he had just slightly been reaching out to Dark Creatures in Africa, but nothing solid. He suspected it was only big news because 1) blood ideologies were still big in most European countries, even if they weren't derogatory it was still there and 2) because the news that a _one year-old_ had defeated a fully grown Dark Wizard had spread far and wide. And the news that said one year-old had then been kidnapped was also massive news.

Sirius, having been into the Ministry and in Diagon Alley at least twice since the news had broken had already seen signs of the purebloods who had followed Voldemort looking squeamish and nervous and practically as though they were about to be sick. Yes, Lord Voldemort had had great magical prowess and charisma and abilities and _yes_ he was still Slytherin's Heir, but to those who actually believed in the idea that purebloods were over everyone else the idea that they had _kissed the robe __and feet _of a halfblood with barely a witch for a mother had not sat well with them at all.

Lorcan, of course was delighted with the fact that the news no longer was printing images of him and articles 'all about Lorcan Black' and if Neville or Augusta had noticed his more upbeat smiles or laughs, they had not said anything. In fact, all five in the Black family, including Remus who had sent a letter proclaiming them 'geniuses' from Bulgaria (where the news was going mad also), were abundantly pleased with the way the news of the halfblood Dark Lord had been received, and with the fact that the files on Tom Riddle had ended up on journalists desks anonymously without anyone seeing who put them there, no one, absolutely no one would ever suspect the Black family of doing so.

But somewhere in the deep, dark depths of a forest in Albania, a scream like no other was heard by no one and the magical relay from that scream wiped out several trees that stood in the forest. The owner of that scream vowed revenge on whoever it was that revealed his name, and smiled viciously as a plan began to form in his head.


	11. What If Reactions Were Watched

**What If Series: The Black Prince**

**by Miss Mysteria**

**Chapter Eleven**

* * *

**8th of May, 1988. **

**Hogwarts Castle, Headmaster's Office.**

* * *

'**YOU-KNOW-WHO'S IDENTITY REVEALED**'

Albus Dumbledore sighed at the title was screaming up at him from his cluttered desk. He had been staring at Daily Prophet that had landed on his desk early this morning for almost an hour, trying to avoid what he knew was coming. There could be no doubt that his name would be brought up somehow, and the only way to find out was to open it and see for himself. Hopefully it wouldn't be too scathing, although he had winced once he had seen the authors name; Rita Skeeter. She had been caught up a number of times during her Hogwarts career as a Slytherin for cutting comments and severe gossiping that caused numerous ruffles. Her career choice had not really surprised him, nor the Hogwarts staff.

He leaned forward in his seat and grasped the papers tightly in his hands. He sank back and moved his eyes rapidly over the front page article, ignoring the blaring black-and-white still photograph of a young, handsome Slytherin student with a Head Boy badge pinned on his shirt.

'_Tom Riddle. A name that would not be out of out of place in the muggle world that belongs to the Darkest Wizard Europe has ever seen. Several days ago left on this reporters desk were files upon files of information and a timeline of pictures of a brunette male from ages eleven to twenty-five. At the top read his name, and in the face of being as honest as I can be, I will not lie when I say that I had to sit down for several minutes before looking any further. The name read: **Tom Marvolo Riddle: AKA Lord Voldemort**. The files, left anonymously, gave a surplus of information about You-Know-Who's early life in a muggle orphanage where he was left by his near-squib of a mother, Merope Gaunt. The woman sadly died barely half-an-hour after her son was born, but had just enough life inside her breast to gift him with a name...the name of his muggle father, Tom Riddle. Thats right. Lord Voldemort, Heir of Slytherin, Darkest Wizard of our time, was a half-blood._

_According to this new information, Tom Riddle then spent eleven years inside of the muggle orphanage and I'm sure you can imagine for yourselves what sort of devious and heinous acts the even then psychotic child got up to. (See p.10 for more information on the muggle childhood of You-Know-Who)_

_On his eleventh birthday, it is revealed by this reporter exclusively, Albus Dumbledore was sent by previous Headmaster Armando Dippet to retrieve the child and tell him of the Magical World, as is done with muggle-borns and muggle-raised wizards. We at the Daily Prophet wonder whether or not present Headmaster Dumbledore knew of You-Know-Who's original identity and whether or not he himself aided the fear mongering of not knowing his origins. Was Albus Dumbledore, self-claimed most powerful _light_ wizard of our age, taking part in making the man behind You-Know-Who into the scary nightmare he became after he graduated Hogwarts? In fact, was the man part of the blame, as this information brings to light that Dumbledore was Transfiguration Professor for six years with Tom Riddle as his pupil and then Headmaster for his last. What exactly does the Headmaster have to answer for and-_'

And there he stopped reading. The entire article, not that he was even halfway done with it, was a shock to his system. How on _Merlins Grave _did Rita Skeeter at the Daily Prophet get this? In fact, how did journalists at the highest-branded magical newspapers across the world get these...these '_files_' that apparently mysteriously ended up on each of their desks in each of their countries official languages. This was a well-planned and well-researched act to shock the world.

Of course Albus knew all of the information in this article and most likely in those files, how could he not? He had seen Tom Riddle grow up before his very eyes. He had seen the somewhat reserved and untrusting boy from the orphanage flourish under the approval and attention of those around him and he had seen the way the boy had pushed himself to become the best of his peers, the best in Hogwarts, the best in the World. He had seen the way the likes of Abraxas Malfoy, Orion Black and Corvus Lestrange had shuffled around him from their third years onward. He had seen the way that the spells used in mock-duels in the classrooms and spats in the hallways became darker and darker.

He had seen Tom Riddle, the not nearly innocent, but certainly not evil or psychotic (like the article suggested), eleven year old boy grow into becoming Lord Voldemort, the most feared name in Magical Britain. And he had seen the ways that he could have stopped him. But at the time Albus had thought to himself that Tom was only a child. He would see sense, there was no need to pull him to the side and Merlin knew what kind of effect that could have had, with the boy already disliking him to a degree bordering on hatred.

But Albus was not to solely to blame. He _was not. _There were many Professors who could have, _should have_, stepped in. All of them should have seen the monstrosity that Riddle and his gang were becoming, but instead chose to see the facade that the boy had placed around him.

And it was their choices, not Albus's, that had shaped the future. He had tried to warn them; Armando, Gaeleta and Horace specifically. But the old Headmaster, Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor and Head of Slytherin House had chosen to laugh off his claims that perhaps Tom wasn't quite right and how perhaps they should intervene. And Albus _had _kept an eye on the boy, watching him closely for any antics that were somewhat Dark. But there was no doubt that the Daily Prophet, nor the other News Publications, would not publish this even if they knew. It was, after all, more interesting to dismiss and insult popular figures than it was to applaud them for their efforts, no matter how failed.

He would need to do damage control. If the information had somehow succeeded in its objective to undermine his reputation and authority, there would be some of the public who would believe _he _was the enemy and he most certainly was not. However, even some good press would not prevent what he hoped had not already occurred.

Voldemort was still out there. There was no body at Godric's Hollow that was found, merely a black cloak, an empty crib, the sign of a struggle and the dead bodies of James and Lily Potter.

Albus believed that the man had delved deep into the Darkest Arts, some of which aid immortality which was Tom's long term goal, he knew. After all, the moniker 'Voldemort' quite literally meant 'flight/theft from death' and Tom would have chosen it for a reason and after keeping a close eye on him in his student years and skimming over the books he had taken out from the Hogwarts Library in his last few years, he knew that Tom had had a sincere interest in Death and the ideology of Immortality. And when he had disappeared in the mid-fifties after a few years of working at a store in Knockturn Alley, Albus had suspected the worst. That feeling of dread had continued and built up for several years until it mounted exponentially when the man had come to him in search of the recently open Defence teaching position.

Albus had refused him, obviously. It would not do to have a Dark Arts user and an overall suspicious person _teaching _students and warping their minds. But the way Tom Riddle had looked had shaken him to his core. His skin had been pale, paler than it had been when he had seen him last, and he looked shaky and frail, though the stench of dark magic repelling off of him was too much for Albus to think that the man was _weak. _He suspected that at that point in time, Tom had not known about Dark Magic having a certain...tangible scent. Repellent and disgusting that made many, if not all, feel physically sick and have rises of random negative emotions such as sadness and anger.

But then after theinterview, if one could call it that, Tom had once again disappeared.

A few years later, Lord Voldemort rose and chaos reigned.

It was obvious to him that this was Tom Riddle. But his features were warped from years of dabbling in magics that were supposed to have been laid dormant. His gang from school, once quiet and studious (deceiving back then, still, but no trouble surrounded them in their school years), was now crowing and calling to Purebloods to join them and they would 'perfect the world together' and Tom Riddle, _Lord Voldemort_, was their puppet master holding the strings behind the curtain. But with their rise came the War; one side was Voldemort and his Death Eaters and the other were the Muggleborns, Halfbloods and Purebloods, who were now known as 'Blood Traitors'.

The War had raged for years and it came to its climatic end with the introduction of the Prophecy, naming a child born to those who had 'thrice defied him' as Voldemort's defeater. Either Neville Longbottom or Harry Potter, both he and Tom had come to that conclusion. The Potter's and the Longbottom's had gone into hiding, (James being somewhat pushed, never being one who would sit on the side lines) as the news came through their spy lines that the Death Eaters were searching for them in their Lords name.

Of course, the Potter's had been chosen and James and Lily had died. Then Harry, _poor Harry_, had been taken, snatched from his bed. Hagrid had seen the person dressed in black but only enough to know that it was a male around average height with dark hair.

The Wizarding World had celebrated the death of '_You-Know-Who_' but there had been some who had searched for Harry Potter, the Saviour, with him. The search had ended up with nothing. He had suspected for a moment that perhaps Lorcan Black...but that theory had been squashed with the Longbottom's and the Nott's claiming that they had known the boy for a while and there had also been the glaring issue of How Would He Look Like Sirius Black?

But that was not the matter at hand.

Albus sighed and stood from his chair, placing the Daily Prophet back onto his desk and ignoring the teetering ink pot that threatened to spill over because of the sudden weight. He slowly made his way down the stairs and over to the far left wall of his office that had been modified to hold books within the stone. His eyes scanned the hundreds of ancient tomes until they landed on one tucked away in the far right top corner, hidden from prying eyes. He waved his hand and it floated down and landed gently into his open palm.

_Secrets of the Darkest Arts_ was one of the worst books ever published in his eyes. Albus had removed it from the Library as soon as he had had the authority to do so as Headmaster. He had not realised its existence at Hogwarts until he came across the title when looking over what Tom and his associates were reading in their spare time. A truly horrifying book. The book was, quite obviously, a dark black hardcover with the title stitched carefully in silver thread across the front. It was worn and fraying slightly at the edges, the weakened state of the outside misleading the reader about the contents.

He flipped open the front-cover carefully to reveal the somewhat short table of contents.

_Jinxes, Hexes, Curses_  
_Creatures_  
_Beings_  
_Practitioners _  
_The Unforgivable's_  
_The Deathly Hallows_  
_Soul Magic_

Albus ignored the slight pain in his chest and tried to avoid eye contact with the wand on his desk at the sight of the Deathly Hallows and steeled himself, turning to the very last page.

_Soul Magic._

Albus for some years had suspected that Voldemort had looked into Soul Magic, specifically something called a _Horcrux_. But with no proof the theory was only that; a theory among others.

He scanned some of the page with a furrowed brow.

_'Horcruxes (etymology of the word originating form "hors" and "decors" in French meaning _outside_ and "crux" meaning _essence_) are essentially defined as keeping your soul, your essence, outside of your body. It is created by manually tearing part of the soul and placing it into an object. Firstly, the soul must be split into two, where one part remains in the human body while the other is destined for the chosen object of the Wizards choice. _

_The initial "tear" of the soul must be done following the out-usage of a spell that depletes at least half of the Wizard's magical store, an example of this is Avada Kedavra, the Killing Curse, and perhaps the consumption of such potions as the Drink of Despair although the latter has not been tested. Indeed, one continued act that has been since tested multiple times and proven to work is _Murder_ due to the before thought myth, and now known fact, that killing 'leaves a mark on the soul'. Once half of the Wizard's magical store has been depleted, the Wizard must raise their wand to their throat and press the tip of it against their oropharynx, whereby the wand will begin to burn. _

_The receptacle for which the Wizard wishes to take on half of their soul must be nearby as once the soul is extracted, it becomes a living, desperate being that is separate from its host and is in need of a new one. Once the half of the soul is extracted (the Wizard should feel this, symptoms have been known to deviate as per each Wizard) the wand should be removed from the oropharynx and the tip should immediately be placed into the centre of the object. _

_Before this transfer, however, the Wizard _must_-'_

The book did continue, in detail, to reveal how to transport part of the soul into an object however even reading the information made bile rise in his throat. He closed the book with a snap and pressed the spine up against one of the stone partitions that split up the books by genre and let go once he felt the magic take hold. He stood and watched as it drifted up by itself and slotted itself into its rightful place.

There was little to no doubt in his mind that Voldemort already knew of his true origins being released to the public. Whatever the state of health, mind or body he was in. He had been destroyed that night in Godric's Hollow, but to what extent Albus did not know. There was no body, but all that did was suggest to the public that whatever Harry Potter did that night had completely wrecked Voldemort's physical form so that he...well, Albus didn't know. Perhaps they thought he had exploded.

But Albus was, in his humble opinion, more intelligent and perhaps more interested to know whether or not Lord Voldemort was ever returning. He had thought on numerous occasions, if his theory about Horcruxes was correct, what was left of his soul was still floating around, which made both his blood boil and his stomach curl.

And he was sure that whoever placed those files on the desks of those reporters would not be prepared for what revenge Lord Voldemort had in store them because weakened or not, he was still one of the best wizards of all time and still a danger.

He both hoped and didn't, though it pained him to admit, that the people who did so had protection surrounding them for their own sake.

* * *

**6th of June, 1988. **

**Ravenswood House, Grounds.**

* * *

"Lorcan!"

Lorcan spun fast, keeping his legs tightly wrapped around the broom underneath him. His eyes widened dramatically as they took in the bludger rocketing towards him from the other side of the field and quickly whirled himself to the left, the broom becoming a blur as he moved. The bludger sped past his head, popping his eardrum and making his hair, which had fallen loose from its place tied back, wave in the wind it caused. He let out a breathy laugh and looked up from the broom to see Neville holding a Beaters Bat loosely in his right hand and his left had come up to cover his eyes in shock.

He smiled, "Nev', it's all good! You can look."

Neville slowly, very slowly, peeled his hand away from his face and slumped onto his own broom. Lorcan laughed and pushed his broom forward towards his friend.

"Its not funny!" Neville yelled at him, holding the bat up and gesturing in what Lorcan guessed was supposed to be a threatening manner. "I could have killed you!"

"As if. You're not as good as you think you are. That bludger wasn't even close."

Neville's hazel eyes sharpened and narrowed, "'_Wasn't even close_'? Do you realise it was right next to your head? About two centimetres from it?"

Pretending to study his friend, Lorcan leaned in closer as he brought his broom to a stop a few metres away. "Are you sure _you _haven't been hit in the head with a bludger recently? Or maybe you hit yourself with the bat?"

He laughed as he moved away from Neville's half-hearted swing with the bat. "I'm better than you at being the Beater. You can barely hit it."

"Yeah, but these arms aren't meant for...batting against heavy, murderous balls flying through the air. They're meant for throwing and catching." Lorcan developed a high-and-mighty look that he had adopted from his grandfather whenever the man talked about his Order of Merlin (nobody knew what it was for, which suggested both to Sirius, Remus and Lorcan that he had bribed his way into it), "Y'know when we get to Hogwarts-"

"No, what's Hogwarts?"

Neville avoided his glare with a smirk and began to pick at the fraying pieces of fabric on the bat.

"_Anyway_. When we get to Hogwarts I'm going to be the greatest Chaser ever." He offered Neville a side glance that he knew was filled with fake-pity, "And you will be a..._somewhat_ talented Beater."

Huffing, Neville replied, "Thanks. But we can't even tryout in First Year. And who knows, there might already be people filled out in our positions."

"No one better than us, Neville Longbottom. No one better than us. They'd be stupid not to put us on the teams."

Neville opened his mouth to reply when a voice drifted up from below.

"You guys hungry?! The elves made sandwiches and stuff but Remus is hungry so.."

Both boys looked down to see Sirius waving up at them and their eyes widened comically before glancing at each other quickly and grinning.

"Race ya?"

"You're on, Black. Get ready to eat dust."

* * *

**A/N: Ok, ok. **

**So I want to discuss the Horcrux bit. **

**Nobody really knows what one has to do to make a Horcrux as J.K. Rowling in interviews has said it is 'too horrible to discuss', but I had a crack at some of it. **

**This is something I saw on Quora in answer to the question "How to make a Horcrux" and thought it pretty much matched what I thought as well: **

**I suspect that the manner of the murder doesn't matter, or at least it allows a broad range as Myrtle was killed by the Basilisk's gaze, the Riddles were killed by the Killing Curse, Hepzibah Smith was poisoned; but all of those murders were used to create Horcruxes, we know. **

**The process leaves no obvious signs on the victim's body; Myrtle was examined by Dumbledore and the Ministry (no doubt), the Riddles were examined by Muggle police, and Smith was most likely examined by the DMLE, but apparently none of them could find any sign pointing to the creation of a Horcrux. **

**The murder doesn't have to be purely for the purpose of making a Horcrux - the deaths of the Riddles were for revenge, the death of Smith was used to cover up the theft of the Horcruxes-to-be, the intended death of Harry Potter was to avert a prophecy of Voldemort's own destruction, and the death of Bertha Jorkins cleaned up a loose end. But in all cases there is a certain amount of capriciousness in the deaths, so that may be a requirement.**

**The victim does not have to be magical, since the Riddles weren't. The victim may have to be human, since all of Voldemort's were, but this is less certain.**

**Many of the murders are committed in the summer, but Harry's attempted murder was at the end of October, so if there is some kind of time-of-year requirement, it does not seem to be very stringent.**

**I think we can infer that there are no additional murders involved in the preparation ritual, since Slughorn and Dumbledore seem to suggest that the murder which creates the tear in the soul is the most evil part of the process.**

**So in sum, the process appears to work as follows:**

**The wizard prepares the Horcrux using some sort of ritual. This ritual probably doesn't involve a murder, but does involve something truly disgusting and horrible. (I've seen speculation that included cannibalism, necrophilia, or some sort of gross blood ritual).**

**The wizard then murders a victim. As far as we can tell, there are no specific requirements for the murder, other than that the wizard be the ultimate cause and perhaps that the murder be unnecessary. This murder, as all murders do, splits the wizard's soul in two.**

**Finally, the wizard casts a charm to move the soul fragment into the Horcrux. The Horcrux is now complete and the wizard cannot be truly killed without destroying it.**

**Hope that was as interesting for you guys as it was for me! I wanted to include something about Horcruxes, seeing as in Canon Dumbledore had a suspicion about Voldemort being immortal, but he wasn't certain completely until he came back in Philosophers Stone and he saw a destroyed Horcrux in Chamber of Secrets. I reckon he had an inkling though. I wanted to show Dumbledore's point of view a bit because I don't want people to hate him too much, but don't want people to like him too much.**

**Also just thought I'd add a bit of dialogue with Neville and Lorcan on the end. **

**Thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed!**


	12. What If A Party Was Held

**What If Series: The Black Prince**

**by Miss Mysteria**

**Chapter Twelve**

* * *

**22nd of July, 1988.**

**Dining Room, Ravenswood House.**

* * *

"No."

Lorcan snorted into his cereal and ignored Remus as he shot him a glare. The man turned back to his partner who was stuffing bacon haphazardly into his mouth as though he would never eat again.

Remus frowned at Sirius. "I am aware of how much you dislike her, Sirius, but she sent a request that Lorie and her son meet. To be honest, it's only right as she is a daughter of House Black-"

"Was!" Sirius called out, waving his fork at in Remus's direction wildly, eyes wide, "She's a _Malfoy _now." His grey eyes darted over to Lorcan who was busy trying not to look at Remus and he grinned before shoving his nose into the air in a pompous gesture. "_Lady Narcissa Druella Malfoy, Queen of the Court, High Mistress of the Well-Bred World and-"_

"And your _cousin, _Sirius. Which means that Lorcan and Draconis are related-"

Lorcan's eyes went wide and a spark lit up in them, "Draconis? Is that his name? _Draconis?_ I thought it was just Draco, like_ '_Dragon_'. _Not_ Draconis._"

"Sounds like some sort of drape Melania would want hung in her bedchambers. _'Only the best material. Draconis that is, Sirius. Oh, you wouldn't know of course, the underprivileged rarely do.'_"

Remus sighed and shook his head as Sirius and Lorcan shared a mirth filled, smirking look over the dining table.

There was quiet over the three of them for a few minutes, with Lorcan and Sirius eating quickly like their lives depended on it and Remus slowly but surely finishing his toast with jam and drinking Earl Grey tea whilst reading the morning newspaper.

Lorcan pushed his bowl and spoon away from him and it disappeared into thin air instantly. He leaned back into his chair. "I've already met him though, Moony. At the introductions."

Sirius groaned. "'Cissa means to have a _formal _meeting, Lorie. Where she can introduce her son and make him seem like the best thing since the Comet 260 and Lucius...oh Merlin, _Lucius_!" He turned to look at Remus, pointing a finger in his face. "Stuff the rules, Lucius Malfoy is _banned_ from Ravenswood!"

Rolling his eyes, Remus folded his newspaper in half and placed it next to his empty teacup. "You can't ban anyone from Ravenswood, Sirius. The rules state-"

"Rules are made to be broken!"

"They are not. Nothing is _made _to be broken, Sirius, _Merlin-_"

"Uh," began Lorcan, "Piñatas?"

"Glow sticks." Sirius said triumphantly. Lorcan grinned at him.

"Kit Kats."

"The 'In Emergency Break Glass' on the Knight Bus!"

"A-"

"Enough!" Remus stood from his chair, staring menacingly down at them both. Sirius and Lorcan swallowed and immediately controlled their grins. "The Malfoy's will be coming to Ravenswood as I am going to invite them to Lorcan's birthday party. They will arrive here and you two, as well as Neville, will be nothing but polite! Am I understood?"

"Yes, Moony."

"Of course, Remus."

Remus let out a breath and nodded in finality, "Good. I will be in the Library. Lorie, Neville is coming by Floo at three o'clock so make sure to tell him about the Malfoy's. Sirius make sure that the elves have prepared some tea and nibbles for Augusta, would you?"

Even as Sirius nodded, he mouthed over at his son, '_Nibbles?'_

_"_Nibbles mean teacakes and shortbreads. Sirius Black how you ever survived this long I will never know." Remus said, shortly, before turning and leaving the room, his light brown robes flourishing behind him.

"Its a mix of being incredibly handsome and having a scary werewolf husband!" Sirius called out after him and then collapsed into giggles with Lorcan across from him, his empty breakfast plate disappearing.

* * *

**22nd of July, 1988.  
****Master Bedroom, Ravenswood House.**

* * *

His bedroom was the absolute best in the house, Lorcan knew. Remus could never sleep in a room too lavish and Sirius couldn't sleep with his back to a door in any form (bathroom or otherwise) because of the residing effects from the War and if he did then what happened was what he had described one night a few years ago as a sinking feeling like he was slipping through the mattress and an itch he couldn't scratch in the back of his mind. So they slept in what was supposed to be a guest bedroom and that left the Master for Lorcan to have.

There was a Kingsize bed fit with black quilts and pillows with golden accents, a dark mahogany set of wardrobes and chest-of-drawers that had silver handles, and a bathroom bigger and fancier than anything anyone could imagine. The wallpaper had been charmed to show players from the Puddlemere United Quidditch Team flying around; the three Chasers (and his personal idol, Joscelind Wadcock, who at seventy years-old was officially the oldest player in the league and in her last season. He was not ashamed to admit he had cried when Sirius and Remus had taken him to a game and he had met her and the other players on the team), the two beaters, the keeper and the seeker. When Lorcan had been younger he had loved playing Seeker, but once he had reached a certain height and weight it made all the sharp turns and quick dives slower and less fun and Neville and Remus had actually began to beat him and Sirius in their mini-games in the gardens so he had switched to Chaser pretty quickly.

The carpet of the Master Bedroom was dark silver and soft and there were double doors that opened up and onto a small balcony. In the far right corner was a mahogany desk and chair where at this very second, Neville was sat writing away for his assignment for their shared tutor while Lorcan was lounging on his bed.

"What did you put for the last question? The one about if there was a fire what would you do, _in theory_." Neville asked, chewing on the end of his quill. Lorcan screwed up his eyes in concentration.

"Aguamenti. It's easier to conjure compared to a bucket of water and easier to control unlike the extinguishing charm."

Neville nodded as thought the answer was obvious. "Thanks." After a few more seconds of silence being filled by the scratching of a quill, Neville finally threw his quill down onto the desk and massaged his hand as he sank back into the chair. He gestured to the gardens with his head. "Want to go and play?"

"Yeah, sure. You'll be Beater again and I'll be Chaser. Oh, but first Remus told me to tell you that the Malfoy's are coming to my-"

"To your _birthday_!?"

Neville's eyes had bugged out of their sockets and Lorcan rolled his eyes. "I know. I was actually looking forward to it but every time I think about it now all I can think is the how I'm going to have to be polite to _Malfoy_!"

"He was a right prat at the Introductions." Neville said solemnly as he picked up his quiz on the desk and shifted the parchments in his hands as he stood. Lorcan followed him from the bed, swinging his legs over the side and standing before walking over to the door.

"And now he's going to be a right prat _in my house_. Remus said that Sirius can't even ban his dad from coming so that means that _Lucius Malfoy_ is going to be _in my house._"

Mouth falling open, gobsmacked as they made their way down the corridor, Neville whispered, "Do you think he'll-"

Lorcan rolled his shoulders. "Sirius reckons he will try something. Either being just getting on his nerves or insulting House Black in general but not enough for Sirius to call for an apology. He told me after Remus left breakfast this morning." He shot his friend a look. "Remus said for us to be on our best behaviour."

"'_Us_' meaning you and Sirius or '_us_' meaning me and you?"

"Me and you." He snorted as Neville groaned loudly, the plan of irritating the younger Malfoy flying quickly out of the window. "He probably meant Sirius as well but that sort of goes unsaid."

Neville grinned, recalling all the times he had seen Remus glaring as Sirius made a joke that wasn't funny to stuffy old board-members at Ministry balls and at Christmas parties in Black Manor. "Yeah it does. Well, at least we've still got my party on the 30th."

"True. We'll have to make the most yours. Anyway." Lorcan's mouth split into a wide smile. "Did you know that Draco's name is _Draconis Abraxas__ Malfoy_?"

"You're lying."

"Nope."

"This is going to be so great."

* * *

**31st of July, 1988.**

**Entrance Hall, Ravenswood House.**

* * *

Lorcan scowled as Remus moved once again to tuck his tie under his collar and he glared daggers as Sirius grinned at him.

"I don't see why I have to wear this thing." Lorcan muttered under his breath as he knocked Remus's hands out of the way as they reached up again to touch his black tie.

Remus rolled his eyes. He was wearing a dark blue outer-robe with a pressed white shirt and dark blue slacks underneath and smart shoes, apparently for _Remus_ a tie was optional. "Because it makes you look smart." His eyes cut to Sirius. "Sirius, tell him he looks handsome will you?"

Sirius's grin was quickly removed from his face and he nodded solemnly. "Yes. Very handsome, Lorie. Almost as good looking as me. _Almost_, not quite." Sirius was wearing a full black robe with black slacks just visible underneath. The robe was pressed with the House Black coat of arms in silver on his right breast and matched the soles of his black Oxford shoes.

Lorcan scoffed. "I'm not sure what you mean '_almost_', Padfoot. I'm much better looking than you are."

"Never heard something more untrue in my life."

"Well, coming from someone as old as you that means something."

Grasping his chest in fake heart-break, Sirius gasped. "I am not old, you-" He stopped when one of the two Floo's in front of them was brought to life in a flame of green and Neville and Augusta Longbottom stepped out, Neville only not tripping over due to his Grandmothers firm hand on his shoulder. "Neville! Tell Harry that I'm not old!"

Neville pretended to think as Remus took Augusta's cloak off of her shoulders and handed it to a nearby house elf who was waiting patiently. "I don't know, Sirius. Not sure I can. That'd be lying, y'know?"

Lorcan laughed and Sirius sent Neville a vicious glare.

"Stupid rascals." Sirius muttered fondly and he turned towards Augusta. "Augusta, lovely to see you again."

"And you, Sirius. Lorcan keeping out of trouble?" The Longbottom Matriarch asked as Sirius kissed both of her cheeks.

"Of course." Lorcan replied, smiling as innocently as he could. "You know me, Madam Longbottom."

Augusta narrowed her eyes on him. "Yes. I do."

Remus turned back to face them all and ushered Augusta quickly into the Main Hall where the party would be held. Overall, there would be around fifty to sixty people coming to Lorcan's birthday and most of them were adult witches and wizards who either were curious about both Lorcan and Ravenswood House, or ones that Sirius and Remus had been friendly with during or before the war. It was the first time that they could have a proper big birthday and invite people, now that Lorcan was introduced to the world.

They stood in a line, Sirius being the nearest to the Floo's as he was Heir Black and Lorcan's guardian which meant that he was the highest ranking in their household. Then it was Lorcan, and then Neville, who Lorcan would introduce as his friend. The announcement of an alliance between the Houses of Black and Longbottom meant that they were unofficially family now, so Lorcan would introduce him as it was his home. At Neville's party the day before, Neville introduced Lorcan whilst Sirius was led to the Main Hall as the first guest by a house elf of Longbottom Manor.

Sirius grinned at them as both Floo's turned green at the same time which indicated people coming through. "Ready boys?"

"No."

"Not in the slightest."

* * *

It was an hour later and the party was in full swing, not only that but Lorcan and Neville could officially say that they had never hated being a part of their families more than they did at this very moment. Due to both their status's as Longbottom Heir and Black Heir, they had been forced to stand by the fireplaces all night so far, welcoming guests who had figured that being 'fashionably late' was a good idea. Sirius had left half and hour ago, leaving the newly arrived Arcturus to deal with the new arrivals and supervise Lorcan and Neville. Amusing as it was to see late people wander through the Floo with smiles which immediately vanished at the sight of the Black Patriarch, both boys wanted nothing more than to go into the gardens and join in with the other children their age in the game of Touch-Quidditch.

In fact, they had been stood in the same place so long, Lorcan's legs were beginning to cramp. It was almost heaven on Earth to hear the words his Grandfather cleared his throat and said, "Alright, boys, I think these are the last people we need to see through before it gets impolite to not spend time with our already arrived guests."

"_Thank_ _Merlin_," Neville rubbed the back of his neck where it ached from bending over to kiss ladies hands and bow to gentlemen, "I wasn't sure how much I could take."

Arcturus's slight scruff of greying moustache twitched as he hid an amused smile. He turned to face the fireplaces once more when it went up in bright emerald flames and Lorcan's stomach dropped. He heard Neville groan quietly beside him and did his best to hide his grin.

The Malfoy's stepped out of the Floo with nothing but grace and they looked just as Lorcan had expected them to; Lord Lucius Malfoy wore a sneer as though everything and everyone was beneath him, paired with a black outer-robe and grey slacks. In his left hand was a cane that seemed to have a silver skull on the handle and Lorcan tried hard to not frown over the obviousness that this man clearly was, if not a Death Eater, dangerous. Lady Narcissa Malfoy, Lorcan's first cousin through his dad, stepped out easily with a light hand on her sons shoulder wearing a silver dress and a black cloak thrown over her shoulders that one of the house elves waiting took eagerly. Draco Malfoy was wearing an ensemble close to Lorcan's with a grey tie, black shirt and black outer-robe. His hair had been gelled back and Lorcan heard Neville snort next to him.

Lucius Malfoy's eyes dragged over the empty Entrance Hall with a purpose, landing on Lorcan and Neville which had his sneer increasing, before finally reaching Arcturus. His sneer slipped from his face like butter.

Arcturus gestured to the Entrance Hall. "Like what you see, Malfoy?"

"Yes, Lord Black. A-" Lucius managed after a moment, pulling a firm neutral mask over his face.

"Ravenswood was always a favourite of mine." Arcturus announced loudly over Lucius's attempt at sucking up, no doubt. "Which is why I am glad I could gift it to Sirius. He will make a fine Lord Black."

Lucius looked as though he had swallowed a lemon, Malfoy didn't look much better. Narcissa, however, had been raised a Black and plastered on a polite smile though Lorcan could see a clear fire burning in her blue eyes. She stepped forward, hand leaving her sons shoulder empty until Lucius's took her place. "Uncle, thank you so much for your hospitality." She kissed both of his cheeks and he let her, a small smile shining through. Lorcan knew from Sirius and Remus that Arcturus had always had a soft spot for both Narcissa and Andromeda. Never Bellatrix, unsurprisingly.

Arcturus's smile fell when his grey eyes landed on Malfoy. "This is your boy, is it?" He glanced to Lorcan and nodded harshly. Lorcan didn't roll his eyes but he fought against the nerve every second as he approached his cousin. He knew Neville was right next to him.

Lorcan held out his hand to Malfoy and the other boy took it somewhat warily. Lorcan took an interest in that. "Heir Lorcan Hadrian Black."

Malfoy swallowed and gripped his hand tighter. "Heir Draco Abraxas Malfoy."

Nodding, Lorcan released his hand and gestured to Neville, who extended his own. Malfoy took it.

"Heir Neville Frank Longbottom."

"Heir Draco Abraxas Malfoy."

Arcturus rolled his eyes as a short silence stretched on for a few seconds. His hand came down on Lorcan's shoulder. "Go on then, Lorcan. I'm sure young Malfoy is desperate for a tour of the House. Neville I believe I see your Grandmother headed this way with Lord Abbot. Make yourself scarce, boy, before she marries you off before dessert."

Neville's brown eyes widened and he looked over his shoulder to indeed see Augusta slowly making her way over to them with Lord Abbot by her side, talking amicably. Neville quickly grabbed Lorcan's elbow, dragging him into a corridor that lead down to the kitchens and with a last stern look from his Grandfather, Lorcan sighed and just as quickly latched onto Malfoy's wrist, ignoring his protests as he was pulled away from his parents.

"I can't believe this. I mean, she said she wanted me to have options before Hogwarts, but that's years away at this point! _Years_, Lorie!" Neville said as he sped down the corridor and then took a sharp turn right.

Malfoy's eyes widened gleefully. "Lorie?" He asked with large amounts of mockery in his tone. Lorcan glared at him even as Neville pushed open a door to reveal around ten hardworking house elves happily slaving away as they cooked the main courses and desserts for the people in the Main Hall. He dropped unceremoniously into one of the seats that Sirius had brought down here one night when he realised that the elves didn't mind people sitting and watching them work.

"Not like you can say much, _Draconis_." Lorcan sneered in a perfect rendition of Lucius Malfoy and from the blush that made its way up Malfoy's neck, he thought he had done quite a good job with it. He and Malfoy both followed Neville into seats next to him and opposite each other.

Neville slapped his palms down on the table just as Malfoy went to retort. "_Please_! We have more pressing concerns now than which one of us hates the other more! My _Grandmother_ is trying to_ marry me off_!

Malfoy rolled his eyes and leant back into his seat. Lorcan copied him, much more amused at the sight of his best friend nervously worrying his lip than annoying Malfoy for the time being. "Oh relax, Longbottom. It's almost as though you've never been threatened with a marriage contract before."

"I haven't!"

"Merlin." Both Lorcan and Malfoy said at the same time in surprise, and both instantly narrowed their eyes at each other.

Lorcan, ignoring Malfoy for the moment, tried to smile assuringly at Neville. "I'm sure she wont '_marry you off'_ anytime soon. She's just looking at all your options."

"Surely it's better to have options than not, anyhow. I'd rather have a contract than not, personally." Malfoy said and Lorcan desperately wanted to disagree, but couldn't.

So instead he nodded his head. "Sirius has already mentioned some families to me. I thought he was joking the first time, but when he told me that Grandfather wanted to make sure that whoever I married was a 'good match' then I sort of guessed that he wasn't. It's serious business, Nev. All about the 'future of our House'."

Neville looked heartbroken. "We're not even at Hogwarts yet!"

"Well your Grandmother can hardly want you to marry a mudbloo-"

Malfoy yelped in pain as Lorcan kicked him in the shin. "Careful. My mother was muggleborn."

Malfoy's face morphed into a scowl. "It's unbelievable that the Houses of Black and Potter will be laid to rest with a half-blood Lord one day. Completely-"

"Merlin, Malfoy. Do you even have your own opinion? Or are you just a carbon copy of your father?"

"Merlin, _Black_. Are you sure you're not a muggle? There is sure to be enough _dirty blood _running through your veins for you to be."

"Well at least my parents aren't Death Eaters!"

"My parents aren't Death Eaters!"

"Are you sure? You seem to hold a lot of the same ideas, and I know they don't come from you, considering how they all are from the same shite your father explodes with!"

"Don't you dare say a word against my father!"

"I can say whatever the bloody hell I like! You're in my house, my rules. Just because you don't have enough of a brain to be original, doesn't mean I don-"

"MERLIN! JUST SHUT UP!"

Both Lorcan and Malfoy turned to see Neville, half risen in his seat, staring at them incredulously. "You are both infuriating."

"How am I-"

"How dare-"

"Again! Be quiet! Lorie, you say you don't like it when people become their parents but let's be honest, when you get angry you _are_ Sirius Black. All that 'bloody hell' and 'shite' stuff is all things that Sirius says, even when he's not angry. Y'know I love you, but stop being so hypocritical. Also, if you had been stuck in a house with Lucius Malfoy for seven years, don't you think you'd be speaking whatever...shite he says too?"

"No. I like to think I'm more intelligent than that."

"Newsflash. You're not." Malfoy sneered, though it was less pronounced than before.

Lorcan held a hand to his chest. "Ouch." He said, deadpan.

Neville rolled his eyes and sat down fully again. "And by the way, Malfoy, before you take this the wrong way I'd like you to know that I don't hate you. I don't even dislike you." Lorcan's mouth hung open in surprise and even Malfoy looked confused. "I pity you. You've got no mind of your own and everything you say is all 'my dad this' and 'my dad that'. Well _newsflash _we don't care about your dad. No one cares about your dad anymore. Not since Sirius and Arcturus came back with House Black. House Malfoy might be Ancient and Noble, but not nearly as respected as House Black. Even despite the fact that we're family, especially you two, you should be at least trying to be become friends with us, or at least _Lorcan_. Stupid of you not to, really."

There was a patch of red on Malfoy's cheeks and he seemed stunned into silence, which Lorcan thanked the Gods for. He looked towards the elves and took note of the absence of a few before realising what likely was the time. Lorcan stood from his seat and both boys looked up at him in confusion. "Some of the elves are gone which probably means food is being served. I'm hungry."

"Yeah, me too." Neville stood from his seat and and walked over to the door.

When Malfoy stayed sat down, Lorcan rolled his eyes heavily and sighed, hanging his head. "Coming, Malfoy?"

They started down the corridor and by the time they reached the Main Hall, Malfoy's shoulders were once again straightened and the blush was gone as though it had never been. "I despise you, Black." He muttered under his breath, either to avoid another conversation with Neville, who was keeping his eyes peeled for his Grandmother, or to make sure no one else heard him.

"Trust me, Malfoy," Lorcan said loudly, with no such qualms about invoking the wrath of Neville Longbottom, as he led Neville and Malfoy over to where the food was laid on a long table, "the feeling is definitely mutual."

As Malfoy picked up a plate of iced fingers and stared at them warily, Lorcan piled up his own with a mix of liquorice wands, jelly, jam tarts and chips and Neville quickly nicked one of his jam tarts, Lorcan whispered to his friend. "Where'd that speech come from? Thought you hated Malfoy?"

"Hate is a strong word, I guess. It's annoying when I try to talk and nobody listens because their too busy shouting at each other claiming each other is the problem, that's all. Malfoy's annoying but he's probably going to be around a bit now, huh?"

Lorcan shrugged. "Guess so. He's family."

"Not like we have to be nice to him, but Gran did sort of give me a speech before we came about how I'd 'better be nice-enough to the Malfoy Heir because who knew what kind of damage growing up with Lucius Malfoy can cause' but she also told me not to be too nice."

Lorcan grinned and shoved him gently. "Ever the Hufflepuff."

Neville rolled his eyes but then stifled a grin behind his hand as Malfoy placed the iced fingers back down on the table and picked up some chips instead.


	13. What If A Death Occurred

**What If Series: The Black Prince**

**by Miss Mysteria**

**Chapter Thirteen**

* * *

**13th of February, 1991  
Black Manor, Drawing Room**

It had been three years since Lorcan had last been to Black Manor.

A few weeks after his eighth birthday ball at Ravenswood, Arcturus's health had begun to decline. He hadn't told anyone at first, proving the steadfast and sneakiness of a Black Lord and he'd actually managed to keep it secret for four months, hiding it even from his Grandmother (once he had reached age nine, Lorcan had felt that he was too old to still be calling Melania 'Mimi').

Lorcan remembered the day he found out about his Grandfather's illness vividly, as up to that point he hadn't really experienced death. Sure, his biological parents had died but he had only been a baby and hadn't _known_ them. It had been in the summer of 1990, his dad and Moony had met him by his bedroom door one morning and that in itself had been odd as they usually waited downstairs in the dining room for breakfast. They had walked with him down, not into the dining room, but into the living room next to it. Moony had sat on his left and his dad had knelt down in front of him. And then they had told him.

Arcturus had Dragon Pox.

Apparently the man had contracted the disease while working during the stressful time when Lorcan had been adopted into the family, but due to potions and the low level of visible sickness, nobody had been told or aware of his struggles. In the winter of 1988 had Melania found him downing potions in his office and that only had happened because she hadn't knocked as she usually did. Although furious, the woman had been heartbroken; even though the two of them had married due to a contract put together between their fathers, they had eventually learnt to love one another as husband and wife and as best friends.

Melania, keeping an apparent vow to her husband, had not told any of the family. Sirius, Remus and Lorcan were kept away from Black Manor in the years to come with the excuse of renovations on the bedrooms bar the Master where Lord and Lady Black slept and most other rooms. The excuse hadn't worked in all honesty, however the demanding tone not so often used by Melania had made them realise that they weren't wanted over there and that there was a good reason.

Arcturus went to St. Mungos, under an alias with his face hidden, for treatment but the so called 'cure' hadn't taken. His body had been getting weaker and weaker but before every Wizengamot session he would take a Strengthening Potion against both Melania's and the Healer's advice so as to not give away his illness.

Melania had finally told Sirius and Remus in January of 1990 when Healers had told her in private and away from Arcturus that he was not likely to last much longer. Furious as he had been at the knowledge of his Grandfather's wellbeing being kept from him purposefully, Sirius had understood why when he had seen Arcturus in his bed, Strengthening Potions out of reach and his wand too far away for him to summon them.

They had all four of them decided to keep it from Lorcan for as long as possible.

That had not lasted when Lorcan had seen Sirius and Remus walking out of the Floo and he knew that there was only one place they would go together.

He, being the eight year-old, had not spoken to them for three weeks after the revelation that they had gone to Black Manor without him. Of course, he knew better after he was told about Arcturus's rapidly declining health.

They had told him in August of '90, it was now February of '91 and Lorcan was finally in Black Manor.

Only not for the reason he wanted.

In the middle of breakfast, the official House Black owl had come in for Sirius and when they had seen the black envelope they had known what was to happen today.

So, two hours after receiving the letter requesting that '_Heir Black, Consort Lupin and Heir Potter_' come to Black Manor, Lorcan was sat on a dark blue chaise lounge chair in the drawing room wearing all black clothing and was wiping his face furiously to get rid of the tears that had rested there. Moony was next to him, a solemn expression plastered across his face with an arm around him, rubbing comforting circles on his back.

Melania was somewhere else in the Manor, having said her goodbyes earlier before anyone else had shown up. Then there were the rest of the Black Family who had deigned to show; it was custom that all members of a House pay respects in person to their passing Lord but as their family was somewhat known for their calling other members 'Blood Traitors' there were less people there than there should have been.

Sat on the other furnitures that had been conjured in the room were the Longbottom's (Neville, Augusta and Callidora), one Prewett (Lucretia), one Weasley (Cedrella), the Malfoy's (Lucius, Narcissa and Draco. The Head of House Malfoy, Abraxas, had died the previous summer of Dragon Pox himself) and the Black's (Pollux, Cygnus and Druella and Cassiopeia) all of which were wearing the same mourning expression as Moony. None of them had really expected this day to come, as Arcturus lead House Black with an iron fist and showing everyone how strong their House was.

Now it would fall to another.

That other was the only person in the room with Arcturus right now; his dad, Sirius.

Sirius would become Lord Black, no doubt his Grandfather was giving him the Lord ring, and Lorcan would become Heir Black as well as Heir Potter. It was huge news, no one outside of House Black knew of it as of yet and it would be kept that way until Sirius said so, as he, as soon as Arcturus passed, would be in charge of their family.

There was quiet over the room, the only sound being the occasional sniff from Lorcan and the mutterings from Narcissa to Draco, who had experienced this in the summer before and was no doubt having trouble with it occurring again so soon.

Then, came an echoing of footsteps that floated in through the open door of the drawing room. All fourteen occupants of the room sat and waited with bated breath as they waited for whoever it was to walk past the doors. There was a flash of green that came passed the door; the Healer was leaving. The man stopped as he recognised the feeling of being watched and he turned to see them all sat there and watching him, waiting for an answer. He peered up the hallway, where there was sound of another set of footsteps walking closer, and then looked back at them all.

He cleared his throat and clutched his bag tighter in his hand. "He went peacefully."

Lorcan choked on his breath and Moony grabbed at his wrist tightly.

The Healer moved on, allowing the space between the doors to open up again.

And then Sirius was there, looking just as awful as Lorcan felt. His cheeks were red, fresh tear tracks resting on them that he had clearly tried to wipe off before giving up. His black button up was untucked and his over-robe was nowhere to be seen. Some of his hair had fallen stray from where he had tied it back and now framed his face, sticking to the wet cheeks.

Remus made to stand but Sirius waved him down. Something on his hand glinted in the light coming from the windows at the movement and all eyes were drawn to his third finger on his right hand; the Lord Black ring sat there proudly. In the other hand was a black velvet box which everyone present knew to contain the Black Heir ring that Lorcan would put on once alone with his father.

Lorcan could feel Neville and Draco's stares burning into the side of his head, but chose to ignore them.

Sirius coughed into his hand to relieve the bile rising in his throat at the thought of Arcturus's body in the Master bedroom upstairs. His voice was scratchy and timid when he spoke.

"Arcturus Sirius Black the third has passed, leaving me in the seat of Lord Black and my son Lorcan in the seat of Heir Black. He will be sworn in once we are in a private space. Myself, my Heir and my Consort are to be staying in Ravenswood House up until September 1st where upon we are to be moved into Black Manor as is proper for Lord Black's immediate family. I have made my decision that the official third in line to the Black Lordship is, should my and my sons unfortunate deaths occur, Regulus Arcturus Black-"

"He is dead!" Pollux Black, son of Arcturus, stood dramatically from his seat next to his son Cygnus who hadn't moved, as though he had expected Sirius to say the name of his deceased brother. "He is dead and you know it you conniving, mudblood loving bastard with-"

Sirius waved his hand tiredly and Pollux's lips were immediately glued together. Quickly, the mans eyes widened and he began to breath heavily in and out of his nose. Cassiopeia scoffed and dragged the man back into his seat from his other side.

"As I was saying, Regulus Arcturus Black is third in line for the Black Lordship should mine and my sons untimely deaths occur. Arcturus's death will be officially announced at the May session of the Wizengamot, upon which I shall take the seat of Lord Black and Lorcan shall take the seat of Heir Black, due to the higher status that House Black retains over House Potter. The reading of the will occur on October 22nd, if you are a recipient of anything regarded by the last wishes of the late Arcturus Black the third, you will be notified by Gringotts a week prior and will either expected to show yourself or another can stand in your place on the sweared vow that they shall not speak of anything they see be bequeathed." Sirius sighed and waved his hand again, undoing Pollux's glued lips. The man grasped and rubbed at at them fiercely and if it hadn't been the situation it was, Lorcan would have grinned. "If you have no questions, queries or regards, I thank you for coming and wish you well on your Floo home. Tippy-" as Sirius said the name, a house elf dressed in House Black attire appeared right beside him, "will show you out."

Lucretia Prewett and Cedrella Weasley smiled as they stood and made their way to the doors, giving Sirius a squeeze of his shoulder and hand as they passed him. Pollux, muttering darkly about Mudbloods and blood traitors, stormed out ahead of Cygnus who carefully sped out after him, giving a nod to Narcissa who was his daughter, and no one else, taking Druella, his wife, with him as he went.

Cassiopeia thanked Sirius and inquired about who was going to be living in Ravenswood House after they left it in September and Sirius told her he would get back to her on that. Lucius nodded once to Sirius, Lorcan and the Longbottom's before offering an arm to Callidora and seeing her out of Black Manor (he had a meeting of his own now that he was Lord Malfoy and Callidora Black, nee Longbottom, didn't want to wait around for Augusta and Neville).

When all who were left were just Remus, Lorcan, Sirius, Augusta, Neville, Narcissa and Draco, Remus finally stood and embraced Sirius. Draco and Neville both stood from their seats and came over to sit side-by-side with Lorcan, offering comfort should he need it (in the past three years Neville, Draco and Lorcan had become closer than before. There was still an element of distrust between Lorcan and Draco, but the Malfoy Heir had matured somewhat over the last several months, with his own Grandfather dying and becoming Heir of his own House. They were friends, and whenever they argued, which was often, Neville was always the mediator).

Hours later, in Sirius's study at Ravenswood House, Lorcan slid the Heir Black ring onto his third finger of his left hand, on his right was the Potter Heir ring.

As he felt the magic take hold and blanket his core, he knew right there and then that nothing would be the same again.

Although Lorcan realised this, it was the magnitude of which that Lorcan had no idea.

In fact, only Lord Sirius Orion Black knew of this, and he would keep it that way until he knew more.

You see, Arcturus Black, cunning as he was, not only hid his illness from them for so long, but also a revelation that would shock the world. A revelation that he had told Sirius of minutes before he succumbed to the Dragon Pox.

Lord Voldemort had created Horcruxes.

And there was a very high chance that his own son, Lorcan Hadrian Black, was one of those Horcruxes.


	14. What If Your Life Began

**What If Series: The Black Heir**

**by Miss Mysteria**

**Chapter Fourteen**

* * *

He couldn't hear.

He couldn't see.

His senses were muffled, to that of a boy with no outwardly awareness.

It was dangerous; his father had taught him the importance of being spatially aware, of not being ignorant to your surroundings. He could be many things, in a duel, in his lessons, at Wizengamot sessions; but one thing he was not allowed to be was ignorant.

His grandmother had always maintained that 'to be ignorant, was to be stupid, and a Black was never stupid.' Of course, she used to then look to Sirius and smile grimly and say, "however sometimes, you do get the anomaly". And then Sirius would have rolled his eyes or launched a bread roll at her from the other side of the dining table.

Remus would've blasted it to pieces before it could reach her, and Sirius would moan that he never let him have any fun.

He shook himself out of the past and focused on the task in front of him. A task he had completed so many times in recent months.

Despite desperately wanting to, Lorcan didn't hold his hands out to search blindly for something to grasp. He had done so before, in this dream, and it hadn't ended well. He had woken to his grandmother Melania shaking his screaming form awake as the palms of his hands burned a bright, raw red.

Not nice, and it had stopped him playing touch Quidditch with Neville and Draco in the gardens for four days as Remus and Melania fretted over him. He had been bed ridden, and allowed no visitors by the two also, which had not only made Lorcan feel monumentally lonely, but had thrown his friends into disarray, wondering what had happened.

Instead, Lorcan closed his eyes, not that this made a difference to his sight, and breathed deeply for five counts in through his nose. Then, out for seven counts. And again. And again. And again.

Once his mind and body were calmed, he pushed gently through his Occlumency shields, feeble as they were, and settled himself, before reaching out with his mind and softly pushing up against an invisible barrier, one that he'd learned controlled his dreamlike states.

Lorcan suddenly felt his feet make contact with solid ground, stumbled, but managed to maintain his balance.

He opened his eyes with no small amount of effort and blinked at the sight of a train station platform. He didn't need the sign that read which platform it was, but he stared up at it in wonder anyway; _Platform 9¾. _

Then, he looked back to the train. The Hogwarts Express, shining red and gold, steam pouring from the engine. It was just as jaw-dropping as Sirius had described it. Just as… _beautiful_. Sirius had told him the only way he could describe it was _soul-saving_, and Lorcan, at the time only frowning, now could see why.

He contemplated stepping forward and climbing the steps onto it; the platform was empty, there was no one around to say that he couldn't, wondering how it was his mind had built the train when he had never seen it in person before, when something at the other end of the platform caught his eye.

A man in a dark suit.

Squinting, Lorcan tried to focus on his face, but every time he thought he could catch a glimpse of a feature, it seemed to morph into shadows once again.

"Hello?" Lorcan called out, his voice was raspy with sleep and echoed in the platform, unnaturally louder than the rumbling of the train. The man gave no notion that he could hear him. "Can you- can you hear me? Is it… am I imagining this?"

The man didn't answer.

Lorcan blinked to rid his eyes of their dryness and when he opened his eyes again, the man was no longer there.

His heart seemed to halt in his chest, and he turned around, eyes flickering in and out of every available hiding spot, but he couldn't see him. It wasn't unusual for beings to come and go in his dreams, and he thought nothing of it.

Lorcan sighed. Alone, it seemed, other than his mind yet again playing tricks on him.

He slowly swivelled back around to face the train and was thinking about walking further down the platform, to see if he could enter at the engine, but when he turned, the man was there.

Stood not even two feet in front of him and Lorcan's eyes widened in shock as he took him in.

Taller than him, easily six-foot-something, his black suit and black shoes contrasted his pale white face. There were no disarming features, in fact, his face was entirely plain. He had no eyes, no mouth and no nose. It was as though he was wearing a mask.

"Um," Lorcan stuttered over his words, desperately trying to tell his legs to step backwards but they wouldn't listen, and he was rooted to the spot, "hello. Sir. Hello, sir. Um-"

The man with no face made no noise, no movement. He stayed still, and even though he did not have eyes, Lorcan could sense that he was being stared at. Inquisitively or not, Lorcan didn't like it.

He cleared his throat, "Can I help-"

The man's hand snapped out and latched itself like a vice around Lorcan's throat and he choked on his words.

Lorcan's eyes bulged and his mouth opened in choked scream, "Wha-help! He-lp! Somebod-!"

His hands came up of their own accord and, acting on instinct, began to try and pry the man's fingers off his neck. His legs began to kick out desperately as the man started to pull him up into the air and away from the ground. Lorcan could feel his throat closing and his lungs burning even as his opened his mouth yet again to try and scream-

-but instead of the muted pleading he expected, a baby's cry escaped.

The man didn't falter, and instead, in the space where his mouth should be, a hole opened up with a sound like tearing fabric.

His voice was low and rough, and Lorcan could swear he had heard it before, "Lorcan! Lorcan- wake up now, you've got to wake up! That's it, there's a good lad, come on Lorcan-"

Lorcan squeezed his eyes closed, his entire body burned like it was on fire, his legs were still kicking against the man, and his fingers ached with exertion as they tried to force the strong fingers off from around his neck and when he opened them again, he found himself staring into gentle and concerned brown eyes.

Familiar brown eyes.

Remus' brown eyes.

Lorcan breathed hard, as though he had been sprinting a marathon and ignored Remus as he stared on with great amounts of concern.

He flinched when Remus reached out to tousle his hair and avoided his eyes when the hand was retracted quickly. "Are you okay, Lorie?"

He hummed, non-committal. When he swallowed he took note of his throat not hurting and he stared at his hands as they throbbed.

Remus frowned. "Lorcan. Lorcan, look at me."

With great effort, he turned his head and looked at his adoptive father. "Yes," It was a great weight off his chest when he found that his voice wasn't raspy. _It wasn't real_, he repeated to himself in his head, _it was only a dream, _"yes, I'm fine. Thank you."

Remus didn't believe him, Lorcan wasn't stupid; when you had to be forced awake because you had stopped breathing in your sleep you weren't okay.

"We… we don't have to do this today, son." Remus said, his voice was soft but Lorcan could hear the uncertainty behind it. "I can talk to Augusta and Minerva. They'll understand-"

"No, they won't."

"Yes, they will." Remus said, suddenly stern. He tentatively reached out and gripped Lorcan's wrist. Lorcan's emerald eyes followed the movement. "Everyone will understand."

Lorcan was quiet for a moment before he shook his head. "No. They won't. They're all going today. I'm going too."

"You don't _have_ _to_-"

"I'm not going to get special treatment because I'm a Black." Lorcan snapped and Remus sighed. "Or because I'm... _Harry Potter_. Despite the fact that they might not know it. I'm _not_. I want to get on the train with Neville and Draco and I want to get sorted into my House and I want to start Hogwarts." He lifted his eyes from their hands. "Today."

Remus mulled this over and it wasn't until Lorcan stared at him with his bright, pleading eyes so like his mother's that he gave in. "Fine. But you can tell me, or _anyone_, if you change your mind."

"I won't change my mind, Moony."

"Okay." Remus said, placatingly and Lorcan didn't have the effort to even roll his eyes. Remus stood from his knees and smiled as Lorcan pulled back his duvet and swung his legs over the side of his bed. He gestured over to the wardrobe. "Meema has put your robes, newly washed and pressed, in your wardrobe. The ones she wants you to wear are on the second shelf. I have your shoes downstairs. We have maybe... two hours before we should be meeting Augusta and Neville at the platform."

Lorcan stood, wobbly on his feet but determined to show Remus that he was fine, and smiled gently, though his heart quickened at the reminder of the place where he had just been. _Supposedly_ just been. "Okay. Thanks."

Remus slowly placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, before turning and leaving the bedroom. Lorcan waited until he couldn't hear his receding footsteps anymore and then let his shoulders drop.

Every other night for four months he'd been having these dreams- no, these _nightmares, _and most of them included either snakes, or other magical objects and animals. Of course, he hadn't mentioned what went on in these nightmares to any of his friends or family, he didn't want them to worry, in spite of how much Remus pressed him for information.

It set him on edge, Lorcan thought to himself as he crossed the room to his wardrobe and pulled open the doors. Snakes were symbolic of Slytherin House at Hogwarts, the House he was sure he'd be sorted into. Every time the location was an important magical place, one usually where Lorcan had yet to see with his own eyes, which of course had to mean something; perhaps he was seeing through someone else's? But then, if that were true, why would this person be the singular person on the busiest magical platform in Europe?

And he didn't want to even begin thinking about the man with no face.

Looking down at the second shelf, he pulled out the set of folded black robes and closed the wardrobe, before making his way into the en suite. He placed the clothes next to his sink, and pulled his toothbrush out of its holder, squeezing minty green _Piquant_ toothpaste onto it and ignoring the spice as it brushed against his gums.

He stared at himself in the mirror as he brushed.

The dark circles under his eyes were prominent, as they always were recently, but he knew his grandmother would fix them up for him as soon as he revealed himself to her downstairs. It would be a shame if the press caught a glimpse of him on their way to the platform and noticed either them or his red-rimmed tired eyes. It wouldn't be the first time they would try to suggest that his family were so uptight about everything that he had perhaps misbehaved and they had forbid him to sleep. Or something equally ridiculous.

His hair was plastered to his sweaty forehead, and he thanked his past self as he stared at the shortness of it.

After his grandfather Arcturus' death, Lorcan had decided to cut his hair off.

It had given his house-elf Meema a fright to stumble upon him in the same bathroom he was in now, Muggle scissors in hand with his long locks hacked to death and fallen all around him. He'd tried to explain to Remus, Sirius and Melania when asked why he'd done it, that he wasn't able to face staring in the mirror, not when the only thing he saw looking back at him was Arcturus. His hair shorter gave him a different look than the old Lord Black, made him feel like his own person, and more than anything else, let him look at his reflection and not feel tears prick at the corners of his eyes.

To make him feel better about it, as Remus had cleaned up his uneven cuts, Sirius had allowed Melania to trim his own hair up to his ears.

It had been one of the last things they had done together, as a family.

As father and son.

Lorcan spat his foamy toothpaste into the sink, watching as the tap turned on by itself and washed away any excess that didn't slip down the drain. He put his toothbrush back in its holder and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

He turned, and stripped off his sweat-soaked pyjamas, stepping out of them and throwing them in the general direction of the laundry basket. Walking into the shower, he twisted the nozzle to warm and waited for the water to heat up.

After it had done so, he stepped inside and sighed in relief as the water washed over him.

It wasn't that he and Sirius weren't close anymore; it was hard not to be close, they saw each other often as they lived in the same house, they shared Remus and Melania and Augusta as close compatriots, but that was where it ended. When Sirius had taken up the title and position of Lord Black, the head of their family, he had began to spend a lot of time in the Ministry, at rallies and speeches and dinners and balls and political movements which would make a better light shine upon their House and their allies.

And the work he'd put in had paid off, in the long run. Arcturus had started it; making the speeches and manipulating the public into seeing a 'change' within them all, and Sirius merely continued his effort tenfold. It helped that he was a war veteran, that his partner was a war veteran, that his grandmother was a lovely older witch who few had bad things to say about, and that his son was also Lily Potter's surrogate son who was friends with the well-liked Heirs of House Longbottom and House Malfoy.

But due to his work ethic ramping up, Sirius had little to no time for them. And Lorcan had disliked him for it. Remus had been stuck in the middle, Melania had been firmly on Lorcan's 'side' and Sirius hadn't even noticed that Lorcan was unhappy with him.

Which continued to this day; three years later, and he was about to go off to Hogwarts for the first time and he wasn't expecting Sirius to be there to show him off.

If he had told his eight year-old self this, the boy would have probably laughed.

Now it was his reality.

Lorcan leaned his head back and let the water run over his hair, quickly washing out the shampoo he'd rubbed in there.

It wasn't that he didn't understand why his father wasn't spending time with him. He did; the work was important, crucial, even, to their House. And Sirius didn't just have him, Remus and Melania to take care of anymore, he had their House's allies and the others who belonged to their House.

As Heir Potter _and _Heir Black, Lorcan had lots to do himself, but had made the rule when he'd started out that he would be eating breakfast, lunch and dinner with his family everyday, despite where he might go afterwards; whether to the Ministry, to lunch to meet and plan with Joe Follen, the Lord Potter proxy, or to Longbottom Manor and Diagon Alley with his friends. Sirius had made no such promise, and Lorcan was tired of seeing Remus' uncomfortable face every time he asked where Sirius was.

Lorcan grabbed the soap bar and lathered it up in his hands before putting it back on the shelf.

Last night, just after he and his grandmother had finished dinner, Remus had come in from his trip to the Japanese Ministry of Magic (he still worked in the Department of International Magical Cooperation as a translator and often, in more recent years, was called away to aid an important member of the Ministry on a trip to another country. It was in those times that Lorcan truly felt the loneliness of Sirius' absence and amused himself by watching his grandmother become more incensed with Sirius as he gave excuse after excuse as to why he couldn't be there) Lorcan had inquired as to who would be taking him and seeing him off at the Hogwarts Express the next day.

Both Remus and Melania had known he was really asking whether Sirius would be there, and both had varying degrees of emotions plastered across their faces; they could hide behind cool masks in front of others, but not him. Remus' eyebrows had drawn together in a frown and his eyes stayed glued to his plate as he gave a non-committal answer, and Melania had desperately tried to choke back her scoff, but hadn't succeeded.

Remus had glared at her and Lorcan had shoved one of the cookies Meema had put out for dessert into his mouth to avoid expressing either his disappointment or his amusement at his grandmother.

Even now, as he watched the remaining soap on his body get washed away and turned off the shower, he felt it unfair that Remus could work in another country, and be back exactly when he said he would be, yet Sirius could work just a Floo call away and not communicate whatsoever.

Lorcan sighed and stepped out of the shower, drying himself off with a warm and fluffy blue towel which was rested on the rack of ten next to the sink. After drying himself, he threw the towel onto the side and took his trousers off the counter, pulling them on after his underwear. Next, he put on his socks, and then worked on pulling the black robe over his head and buttoning up the silver clasps which worked their way all the way up the fabric.

On each of the cuffs laid the Potter and Black crests; the Potter one a gold griffon and the Black a silver snake. On his right hand laid the Potter and Black Heir rings; following so many years of having them on his fingers, they rarely felt like anything but an extension of his hand.

He stared at himself in the mirror; eyes still red, dark circles ever-present and wet hair dripping down his neck, but still he looked the perfect image of how he should. With this in mind, he walked out of the bathroom and back into his bedroom, striding over to the empty desk.

Last night, before dinner, he and his grandmother had spent several hours in his room, making lists of what they thought he would need at school, and what he wouldn't need, and musing how he could try and sneak his broom in with him, as they couldn't shrink it as that was known to effect the competency of it. They ended up deciding that he would leave it at Black Manor, and then she would try and mail it to him at some point. Even if he couldn't _join _a Quidditch team for whichever House it would be, didn't mean he couldn't _practice_.

But now that his belongings were all packed away inside of his trunk, his room, the one he had partly lived in since his birth and the one he'd permanently moved into after Sirius became Lord Black, was stark empty. All that was left was the furniture, Lily, his owl, and his wand, which was sat on his desk waiting for him.

The day, a few weeks ago now, that he'd finally got his wand had been a difficult one.

Since they'd been five, he and Neville had wanted to get theirs at the same time on the same day. Augusta, it turned out when Remus bought it up with her, had wanted Neville to take on his father's old wand. Thankfully, Remus had managed to convince her otherwise, citing that Neville was his own boy, one day a man, and he would need his own wand to answer his call, not one that still answered the call of another.

Sirius hadn't come.

He 'hadn't been able to get away from work', which, despite making something shatter like glass in his chest, had not been unexpected. Instead, Remus, Neville and Augusta had gone together and decided to make a day of it in Diagon Alley.

They'd met for breakfast in the Leaky Cauldron; Augusta complaining about the mustiness and the coating of dirt that covered most tables, but Remus had insisted that it was all part of the experience for Lorcan and Neville, and that the cottage pie was the best in Europe. Of course, he was right and by the end of it they had four cleaned plates of it and both him and Neville were asking about dessert, which was denied.

Instead, they left soon after ten o'clock, managing to get through the brick wall with no hardship, and walking out into the hustle and bustle of the street.

Having grown up in the magical community, Neville and Lorcan had been allowed, from the age of ten onwards, to explore Diagon Alley without a chaperone. More often than not, Remus or Melania would accompany them through the Floo from Black Manor, Neville having Flooed from his house to theirs, and then take a seat in the Leaky Cauldron (if it was Remus), or Eternelle's Elixir of Refreshment (if it was Melania). Both boys, joined occasionally by Draco when his parents allowed it, had spent hours and hours running around the main street, forbidden to wonder into Knockturn Alley or veer off elsewhere.

Because of this, they knew shortcuts in and around the alley, and lead their guardians down a small backstreet which opened up on the right of the entrance next to Gringotts. Having anticipated the day for a while, all four of them had already drawn galleons out of the bank, therefore not needing to go in, which pleased Lorcan. Ever since he'd gone in with Remus and Sirius as a baby and had the blood lineage test done, he'd been anxious to enter and spend too much time in their; all the Goblins seemed to know who he was and the results of his tests.

It made him incredibly uncomfortable.

They'd strolled down the street, stopping once or twice to stare lovingly at the new Nimbus 2000 (in Lorcan's case) or at a set of Bubotuber's in the window of the Apothecary (in Neville's). Augusta and Remus had both said no.

Eventually, they had come to a stop at Ollivander's. Despite being the main wand-maker for all of England, his shop was almost always empty, which was something that Lorcan had questioned, but Remus had only given him an infuriating answer of '_magic_'.

When they'd entered, greeted with the sight of the man himself standing at the desk, frowning at a wand on his desk, they had been hit with the smell of must and dust, something which made Augusta's nose wrinkle tightly.

The man had looked up at the sound of their arrival.

"Ah, Lorcan Black. And Remus Lupin! What a surprise; no Lord Black today?"

Remus had appeared remarkably uncomfortable so Lorcan had stepped in. "No, sir. Not today. He's a very busy man, now."

Mr. Ollivander had stared deeply at him for a long moment, before blinking and a sudden and surprising amount of pity entered them. It made Lorcan turn away and look towards the endless stacks of wand boxes. "Of course, of course. I imagine you're all proud of him."

"Uh," Lorcan was surprised, "yes. Very."

"Yes," He breathed a sigh of relief as the strange man noticed Neville and Augusta, "Longbottom's!" Lorcan tried his best to not laugh as Neville jumped in surprise. Remus' hand fell onto his shoulder. "Why, I haven't had a Longbottom in my shop since your son, Madam."

Augusta had replied, "Well, I imagine it is the same for most children coming through now, Ollivander." For the most part, the man wasn't affected by the usurp, and instead turned his back on them, and began searching the shelves.

"Right, then," he had said as he ran his hands over the boxes, occasionally pulling one out, before shaking his head and putting it back. "Who is going first? Mr. Longbottom, or Mr. Black?"

Lorcan had quickly shoved Neville forward, and when the man turned, he spotted Neville stepping forward of seemingly his own violation and smiled brightly, "Ah! Mr. Longbottom, wonderful! Hold out your wand arm, please."

Neville'd glared at Lorcan with the promise of revenge, but he had just smile smugly and watched as his friend was tugged forward in front of the desk and reluctantly held out his right hand.

"Now then, Mr. Longbottom," Ollivander rounded the desk, two wand boxes in his hands before he placed them down and waved his hands at the tape measure that had until that point, laid dead to the world on the desk. It came to life; like a serpent slithering in mid-air and it began to measure Neville from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head. As the tape measured, Ollivander was back behind the desk, in amongst the shelves and searching for more wands. As he did so, he said, "Every Ollivander wand, boys, has a core of a powerful magical substance. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons and phoenixes are quite the same. And, as I'm sure you both are aware, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand.

"That will do," the man had said, and the tape measure had floated back down to the desk, where it'd slumped, dead once again. "Right then, Mr. Longbottom, try this one if you please."

He'd handed Neville a wand, which he had taken hesitantly.

There was a great moment of anticipation as Neville rolled it around between his hands, but then nothing happened and the boy had sighed in disappointment along with his grandmother. He handed it back to Ollivander, who's eyes lit up in delight.

"That's alright, boy, that's alright. There will be one here for you somewhere! There always is!" Seemingly delighted in the idea of a challenging customer, he handed Neville another one, this time explaining what it was. "This one is nice and supple... unicorn hair... ten inches... give it a wave, boy..."

Doing what the man said, Neville, somewhat warily, waved it about in a small circled gesture, but it was snatched away from him before he could sigh once again as nothing appeared to happen.

Ollivander looked contemplative, before he paused and handed Neville the last wand he had pulled out of the stacks. "Now, I do believe this is the one for you, young Longbottom. Cherry wood, unicorn hair, 13 inches, very supple... give it a wave!"

Neville took the wand and Lorcan could tell instantly by his face that something was different; that this wand was the one. He raised the wand above his head and swirled it around, a stream of purple and yellow sparks dancing out of the end of it, followed up by a round of applause from both Augusta and Remus, both of whom were smiling widely.

Ollivander looked extraordinarily pleased. "Bravo! Oh, bravo! A wonderful wand you have there, Mr. Longbottom. A wonderful wand. Loyal and good for taming _wild beasts, _should feel the need." The man had winked, and Neville's cheeks had lit up in a light rouge. Lorcan'd smirked as the thought of his Mandrake collection in the Longbottom Greenhouses came to mind.

After Augusta had placed the seven galleons he asked for on the desk, and the man had rung them up, the wandmaker had turned to Lorcan. "Now, I believe, it is your turn, Mr. Black. If you would pass me your wand arm?"

Like he had done for Neville, the man waved his hands at the tape measure, and it did very much the same actions for him as it had done for him. Lorcan ignored the tickle of the tape as finally Ollivander clapped his hands from deep inside in the shelves and the snake-like magical item fell back onto the desk.

He came back out of the maze of shelves and handed Lorcan a wand straight away, and placed the box, along with several others, onto the desk. "Try this one, then, Mr. Black. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Give it a wave."

Lorcan had taken the wand and (feeling rather foolish) waved it about a bit, but then Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of his hand. "No, no, not that one. How about this one... maple and phoenix feather, seven inches, quite whippy..."

He'd tried again - but no sooner had he begun to raise it above his head, it had been snatched away once again. "Absolutely not! Here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."

Lorcan had tried. And tried. Despite knowing what a wand _should _feel like, he had no idea other than the blissful look on Neville's face when he'd been passed his wand, what Ollivander was looking for. The pile of tried wands had mounted higher and higher on the desk and on the spindly chair in the corner of the room, but like when Neville had offered a challenge, Ollivander'd seemed to be getting happier with every passing moment.

He'd smiled brightly at a nervous Lorcan and passed him a wand. "Not to worry, tricky customers come, but they all leave with their perfect wand, Mr. Black. This is holly wood, eleven inches, and phoenix tail feather."

As soon as his fingertips had made contact with the wand, Lorcan knew it was the one. The warmth of it spread up his arm and he'd raised it up above his head, before bringing it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of silver and gold sparks flew out of the end of it, lighting up the small shop.

"Aho! Yes, indeed, bravo, Mr. Black. Oh, very good. Well, well, well... how curious... how very curious..."

Just as he had done with Neville's, he took Lorcan's wand back from him and put it into the box he got it from before wrapping it in brown paper, still muttering, "Curious... very curious..."

"Sorry," Lorcan asked, ignoring Remus who had placed his hand on his shoulder, "But what's curious?"

Mr. Ollivander had pierced Lorcan with his pale stare. "I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Black. Every single wand. It just so happens that the phoenix whose tax feather resides in your wand, gave another feather - just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother... well, its brother was the man of whom killed your mother."

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." Augusta had gasped, shocked. Lorcan had turned around to see Neville's eyes staring straight into his own, wide as cauldrons.

"Yes. I-" As Ollivander tried to talk once more, Remus' hand tightened on his shoulder and he interrupted him.

"If that is everything, Mr. Ollivander, I apologise but we do have rather a long day ahead of us."

Ollivander had shaken his head and nodded, accepting this, but Lorcan noticed the man did keep a rather close eye on him as they exited the shop, wands in hand.

After that, they'd left Diagon Alley instead of staying and having lunch and shopping as they had decided they would do in the morning.

Yes, a stressful day it had been. Especially when Remus and he had arrived home, and Remus had immediately set off in the direction of Sirius' office, not even saying hello to Melania, which left Lorcan to tell her what had happened.

He understood it was a big deal; Lord Voldemort and he sharing a wand core. He wasn't sure what it meant, only that it meant _something. _Of course, Neville had been concerned; it wasn't a good thing, but it certainly, as he had explained in his letters, wasn't a _bad _thing_. _Lord Voldemort had been a terrible man, but he had been powerful, and if they shared a similar wand, surely it meant Lorcan too would be powerful?

Lorcan had thought it fitting that Neville had made him feel better in a _letter, _more so than anything Remus, or Sirius or his grandmother could have said to him in person.

Lorcan picked up his wand from his desk, placing it in his wand holster he attached to his arm, before smiling gently at the snowy owl Remus had bought for him all those years ago in her cage. He had named her Lily, at that point so young he only knew that Sirius and Remus said her name with loving tones and picked it because he liked it. Now he knew it was for his mother, which only made it all the more special.

Lily hooted at him softly as he reached through the bars and stroked her face lightly. He removed his hand, picked up the handle on her cage, and finally exited the room.

Walking through the halls of Black Manor for what would be the last time until Christmas was nothing heartbreaking for him. He didn't consider Black Manor his home, merely where he had stayed the last three years. His grandfather had had to die for them to live here, and so because of this, Lorcan had never associated it with anything kind.

It was this, and the detrimental affect that moving here'd had on his and Sirius' relationship, which made him steely eyed as he moved down the main staircase and finally through the large double doors and into the dining room.

Already sat at the head of the table was his grandmother and sat a few seats down from her Remus. Both of them were sat in silence, eating their breakfasts slowly and pursuing their own readings; he could see his grandmother was reading _Witch Weekly_, and Remus was looking over the International section of the _Daily Prophet_.

Lily gave a small hoot, announcing their presence, and both looked up and smiled, thought Remus' eyes narrowed on his eyes.

"Melania, would you perform the complexion charm on Lorie's eyes, please?" Remus said, as he looked back down at his toast and jam. Lorcan rolled is eyes, but walked towards his grandmother as she lifted her wand.

Having not been sleeping well the past few months, Lorcan already knew the uncomfortable feeling the complexion-fixing charm had; it would be ice-cold for a moment, before a feeling like stretching the skin underneath your eyes to its maximum would occur and your dark circles would disappear.

He winced as it happened, but smiled in thanks after it was over. "Thank you."

"No problem, dear." Melania said and she cupped his cheek gently. Then, she gestured to the seat down from here's, where there was a bowl of cereal waiting. "Hurry up now, there. You only have half an hour before you should be on that train."

Lorcan huffed, but sat down, placing Lily's cage at his feet. He picked up the spoon and shovelled some food into his mouth. "It's not going to take us half an hour to Floo to the station."

Melania gave a half shrug. "Who knows? You may say it wrong and end up in the Apothecary at Diagon Alley-"

"That was one time!"

Remus rolled his eyes at their antics, but smiled all the same. "Your trunk is in the hall, and Meema put your satchel in the small compartment so you don't forget it."

Lorcan nodded.

He hesitated.

And then he sighed, bringing both parties attention to him. "You know what I'm going to ask, don't you?"

All eyes travelled as one to the seat at the other end of the table. There was plate of fried eggs and bacon, steaming, but untouched.

Looking immeasurably sad, Remus sighed heavily. "He's had to go in. There was problem with the-"

"I don't care."

"Lorcan-"

"What?" Lorcan asked. He raised his eyes and glared at the plate. "I don't. I don't know why I expected anything different. He said he would be here to see me off, and he isn't. Just like last week and the Quidditch match, and just like the week before that with our wands."

"He is disappointing all around." Melania agreed, and was unbothered when she found herself at the receiving end of Remus' glare. Instead, she gestured to Lorcan's cereal bowl. "Eat up and we'll say our goodbyes by the Floo."

As it turned out, but 'goodbyes', she meant soft crying and latching onto Lorcan like he was the lifeboat and she was out in the midst of the sea. Remus was endlessly amused, if his smirk said anything. He had Lorcan's trunk in one hand, and Lily's cage in the other.

"I am going to miss you ever so much!" Melania almost wailed as Lorcan worked his way out of her firm grip.

"I'll miss you too, Mimi." She cried harder at the nickname. "So much, but if you don't let me go... I'll be late and miss the train."

"Maybe that's not such a bad idea..."

Remus chortled, grabbing Lorcan's collar and gently tugging him away from Melania and her grasp. "Now, now, Melania, you dont really mean that."

"No," she sniffed and wiped her eyes on her handkerchief, "I suppose I do not." She smiled softly at him. "You have a wonderful time, dear child. A _wonderful _time."

"I will, grand-"

"And say hello to Minerva for me, would you?"

"Yes, grandmother, I will-"

"And try your hardest in all your classes?"

"I will, yes-"

Remus coughed, interrupting them, and gesturing at the clock. "We have ten minutes."

Melania rolled her eyes, tugged Lorcan in for one last hug, before practically pushing him into the fireplace. "Go now, before I change my mind and lock you here forever."

Both of them laughed as Lorcan took a handful of Floo powder and threw it into the fireplace, where the flames roared a violent green. They both stepped inside and turned to face her.

"I'll see you at Christmas, grandmother."

"Yes, dear. Have fun!"

Lorcan took a deep breath, let it out, before shouting out, "Platform 9¾!"

And they were taken away in a whisk of green flames.

* * *

They fell out of the fireplace at the other end with a slight stumble, before they balanced themselves out on one another with a smile.

Remus spotted a row of trolleys and moved forward, grabbing one and wheeling it to a free space amongst the crowd of people surrounding the platform.

Lorcan helped Remus lift his heavy trunk up onto the trolley, and was standing back up, straightening out his back when someone familiar caught his eye.

"Neville!" Lorcan yelled, waving his hand in the air until his friend caught sight of him and smiled brightly, before waving back and turning back. He grabbed ahold of his grandmother's hand and all but dragged her over to them both, grumbling the entire way.

When they came to a stop in front of them, Neville and Lorcan crushed each other's backs in a hug and Augusta nodded politely to Remus, striking up a small conversation Lorcan didn't listen into, as Remus helped her lift Neville's trunk onto the trolley also.

Instead, he asked Neville, "Any sign of Draco?"

Neville shook his head, eyes searching the platform. "Not yet." He sighed happily and gestured to somewhere just to their left where Lorcan hadn't looked yet. "Isn't it amazing?"

Lorcan's eyebrows raised in question and he turned to see what his friend was talking about.

When he saw it, his mouth opened in wonder by its own accord.

The scarlet steam engine was exactly like Lorcan had imagined in his dream and he did his best to keep his eyes trained on it, instead of veering off in search of a man who would not be there. _Could_ not be there.

Neville practically was jumping on the spot, thrilled to no end that the day they had both been dreaming of for years was finally upon them.

They were going to Hogwarts.

A sign overhead read Hogwarts Express, and the clock next to it was dangerously close to the eleven o'clock timing, when the train would depart the station.

Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every colour wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks; Lily hooted back happily to one or two barn owls they passed.

The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats.

Lorcan found himself following Augusta and Neville as they led the way through the crowds, the older women parting the people like sea. Remus' hand, as always, had rested on his shoulder, steering him in the right direction.

Occasionally he could spot someone he recognised from a Wizengamot session, be it a Lord, Lady or Heir, and once or twice he saw them see him too, which made him quickly avert eye contact.

They passed a boy with dreadlocks, who was surrounded by a small crowd.

Lorcan heard them talking as they passed, "Give us a look, Lee, go on."

The boy, he saw, lifted the lid of a box in his arms, and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg.

The four of them pressed forward through the crowd until Augusta came to a stop outside an empty compartment near the end of the train. Remus laughed lightly as he brought the trolley to a stop.

"This was where I used to sit. Good eye, Augusta."

Augusta merely sniffed at him, helping Neville get his trunk off the trolley and onto the train. "I would prefer Lorcan and Neville to sit as far away as they can from wherever you and your gang of hooligans perched, Remus. You've had far too much influence already."

Neville laughed, loud and happy, and Lorcan saw his grandmother fight a smile, "Oh, come off it, Gran!"

"I will absolutely not, _come off it_, Neville-"

Remus huffed a laugh as he lifted Lorcan's heavy trunk onto the train and slid it into their compartment of which they had chosen. Lorcan smiled at him lightly.

"Well," Remus said, he opened his arms and Lorcan walked into them, wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug, "This is it, Lorie."

"Don't say that. I'll see you at Christmas."

"Christmas is much to far away."

"I've got the mirror." The mirror; Remus and Sirius' last birthday present to him. It was a two-way that his mother, along with his biological father's assistance in the transfigurations, had created as part of her Charms Masters.

Remus winced. "Maybe you shouldn't broadcast that, remember? We don't know who to trust at the school. Your dad might have pull... but-"

Lorcan laughed. It was a disjointed and downtrodden sound which only occurred whenever Remus brought up Sirius. "I got it, Moony. No showing the mirror off to just _anyone_."

Remus smiled, and hugged him tighter. He whispered in his ear, "Just... _please _be careful. Please. I don't know what I'll do with myself if-"

"I'll be careful. Extra careful. I swear."

"Solemnly?"

Lorcan grinned. "'Course."

They released each other and Lorcan pretended not to notice when Remus wiped at his eyes. He watched as Neville and Augusta released each other from a tight hug at the same time and both boys turned to face each other with matching grins.

A whistle sounded and students who weren't already on the train in their compartments, began to say their final goodbyes.

Neville and Lorcan climbed the steps and walked into their own compartment, taking seats opposite each other by the window where they could see their guardians.

"Be careful, both of you." Augusta was saying, "I will not be pleased if I get any owls from Albus Dumbledore concerning either of you."

"Yes, Gran."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"As will I." Remus said, smiling and pushing his glasses up his nose. Lorcan tried to ignore the ache in his heart when he saw the tears there.

The train began to move. Augusta grabbed at Remus' arm as he went to walk alongside it and Lorcan saw her shake her head sadly.

It picked up pace and Lorcan leaned out the window, a last minute decision he might regret later on, but now it seemed he had become caught up in the emotion of the moment. "Tell grandmother I love her and I'll see her soon. And... tell Sirius that I'm not sure if I'll see him at Christmas. But... I do love him and I'll see him whenever he can spare a moment."

Neville snorted and Remus' face fell slightly, but he still lifted his hand in a wave as he nodded.

Both boys watched the two of them disappear, waving, as the train rounded the corner. Houses flashed past the window. Lorcan smiled brightly at Neville and felt a great leap of excitement.

They didn't know what they were going to.

But it was sure going to be an adventure.


End file.
